


My Sanctuary

by TheSelfHatingAngelOfThursday



Series: Welcome To The Sanctuary [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse Mention(past), Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Descriptions of depressive episodes and mental breakdowns, Descriptions of minor panic attacks, Dramatic Irony, F/F, F/M, Fluff, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, Lots of Angst, M/M, Magic AU, Makeout Scenes, Multiple Depictions of mental illness, Not a wingfic but wings are mentioned, Technically criminals, Wing removal, alcoholic tendencies, magic is illegal, slow burn but not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSelfHatingAngelOfThursday/pseuds/TheSelfHatingAngelOfThursday
Summary: 26 year old Castiel has lived in The Sanctuary his whole life. He lives with two rare and strong powers in a world in which magic is illegal. His great grandparents founded The Sanctuary as a place where people with magic can live without fear of being arrested or worse. When he was 16, Cas took over The Sanctuary as its sole caretaker. Now, ten years later, he’s used to the work, and he loves and protects the people inside with a passion. One day, he’s talking with his best friend and right hand woman, Charlie when he hears a knock at his door. A man stands there, claiming to have the power of possession.This man’s name is Dean, and when Castiel notices just how hopeless he is, he can’t help but let him into his home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester(mentioned), Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester(mentioned), Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak(mentioned)
Series: Welcome To The Sanctuary [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200341
Comments: 139
Kudos: 85





	1. Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’ve decided to put the mandatory thanks and long note in the end notes, so I’m going to let you jump right into this! I really do hope you enjoy just as much as I did.

“And how’s Alfie?” Cas asks, walking through the small doorway that connects his kitchen to his living room, holding two mugs filled almost to the brim with coffee.

“He’s good, actually. Surprisingly enough, he’s settling in faster than most do.” Charlie smiles slightly, taking the mug in grateful hands. “He’s,” she pauses, her eyes flicking down for a second, “he’s content, I think. He enjoys it here.”

“That’s good. And, hm, what about Kaia?”

“Kaia’s actually been here nine months as of today. She’s doing much better than when she first arrived, and Claire’s definitely been helping.” Charlie sits back in her seat, and Cas watches her, nodding. “She’s happy. They both are. Ever since she and Kaia got together, Claire’s been a lot happier. More content, less… prickly. Less angry for sure.”

“I’m glad. That’s good for her. She’s needed someone like that for a while now, I think.”

“She had you, Cas, and that was enough for a bit, but,” Charlie shrugs, and Cas nods, knowing full well what she was going to say.

“How’re Kevin and Linda doing in the kitchen?”

“Well Linda’s been at it for years,” She laughs, shrugging, “so she’s not having any problems. And Kev’s getting the hang of it. We should watch him, though. It gets loud in that kitchen. Being an empath in those kinds of environments sucks, I can’t imagine being a  _ mind reader _ .”

“Charlie.” Cas raises an eyebrow, to which Charlie concedes, putting her hands up. 

“Telepath. I know, I know.” She offers a slight ashamed smile, that places all of her apologies in her eyes and the curl of her lips.

Cas shakes his head, smiling. He knows she knows better. He’s been working on eradicating the casual names that, well, that  _ normal _ people use for those with magic. Granted, some people in the magical community are okay with it. But he’s seen one too many people wince at the words that the rule was bound to be instilled. 

“Lucifer and Michael?”

He watches Charlie wince, and he feels a sharp twinge of pity. That earns him a glare, and he puts up his hands. 

“They’re fine. Always fighting, per usual, but Lucifer’s getting better at putting that stubborn ass chin of his up and letting it go. The same for Michael.”

“I’m,” Cas pauses, thinking for a moment, “I’m glad they’re getting past their differences, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I guess. And then your brothers are doing fine, getting a lot of the shopping done. Although there seems to be a shortage of toilet paper in the nearest store, so they want to head out and take some friends, see if they can find some somewhere else. Every time we take in someone new, though, I get more and more worried we’ll run out of supplies.”

“You sure you’re not just feeling my stress?” Cas offers with raised eyebrows. 

“Pretty sure. I’ll go out and meditate on that.” Charlie’s lips quirk up in a smile, and Cas’, despite himself, do too.

“Yeah, you do that. We’ll see how that works out for you. Finding a place where you can’t feel anyone? Good luck.”

“I’ve never found a single place like that in all my twenty-five years, but I’ll let you know when I do. We’ll have to move The Sanctuary there, but, like, just for telepaths and empaths and such.”

“All of the people constantly being invaded by the world’s thoughts and feelings?”

“Yep, that’s us. Claire, Kevin and I could all have a house party.” Charlie raises her eyebrows, setting her coffee onto the side table, looking at Cas where he sits across from her, in a loveseat that dons the same drab grey as the one she’s sitting in. The dullness of the house makes him smile sometimes, nearly laugh. He’s rarely up here anyways, and if someone came in, really took a look at it, and had half of a brain cell, they’d know that. Nearly every surface is covered in dust, except for the ones he and Charlie had occupied during their visit up to the house today. That really only makes up the small living room, and only its couches, as well as the coffee maker in the kitchen.

It’s not like he needs a house, to be honest. Who wants that when they’ve got an underground bunker that rivals the size of the largest mansions in the world?

“How are you, Charlie?”

“Who, me?” Charlie laughs, shrugging, and he watches as her bright smile overtakes her whole face while she continues. “I’m good, actually. A little tired. But we don’t have many newcomers, so… not a lot of work to do, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Things are really slowing down, I think. The newest people we have are starting to settle in and be content, and we’re not getting any  _ new _ new people, so…” Cas shrugs. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“I am. How’re you, though?”

“Who, me?” He mocks in a teasing voice, before chuckling softly and shrugging. “I’m good. I’m happy. I have a lot of people to check in on and take care of, so I’m a little stressed, but I’m never not going to be.” He’s glad he can be honest with Charlie. And for good reason too. Ever since they were kids he’s been confiding in her, and now she’s an empath. Well, she was when they were kids, sure, but now she’s got it under control. He sees no need to lie to her, she’s already got a general idea of how he’s feeling.

She says his happiness is somewhat like a light under a blanket. Like if you took a bright lightbulb, and turned it on, but you immediately put a shade over it, and then a blanket over the shade. The lightbulb is on, sure, and it’s there, but there’s always something on top of it to keep it from shining fully. 

Cas doesn’t really know how to feel about that.

Does she always see him as a lightbulb?

Or is that only when he’s happy?

What does she see him as otherwise?

“I’m glad you’re happy.” She says with a sweet smile, and he knows she means it.

Charlie doesn’t lie.

“Thanks, Charlie. And I’m glad you are too, of course.”

“I know. And um, how’s everything with…” she makes a face, sticking her hands out and waving them slightly.

His head tilts and his lips flatten into a line, before he shakes his head. “Charlie, I manifested 20 years ago, you can at the very least say I have powers.” He laughs softly. “You do too!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But it gets worse when you’re stressed. If anyone should know, it’s your best friend.” Charlie raises her eyebrows, pointing at herself.

“It’s fine, Charlie. I’m not out there killing anyone, am I?”

“No, I guess not. Or at least if you were, I’d hope you’d tell me. I think I’d make a pretty good post-homicide therapist. Or I could at least help bury the body.”

“Charlie.” Cas says, eyes wide and body leaning forward.

“What?” She holds her hand up. “I could!”

Cas’ surprised, slightly stern face melts into a smile, and he lets his amusement bleed through for her to feel. “Oh, I know,” he leans back in his seat. “I’m just offended you don’t think I can bury a body on my own.”

Charlie rolls her eyes and they both laugh a little, before Cas shrugs. “It’s fine, I’m not having problems with it. I’m not having my nightmares anymore, and that’s helping. Well, as much.”

“I’m glad it’s not happening as much. Also I can’t imagine it’s all that easy to sleep when you’ve got bright light coming out of your body.” Charlie offers a light smile, and Cas shrugs again.

“Yes, you’d definitely be right there.” He nods. “Anyways, you? Have you been getting your meditation in? How’s the new room doing for you?”

“It’s good. You’re the only person I feel strongly, and only when you’re in your room, so it’s nice. I’m familiar with your feelings, ya know? And when you’re out of your room is usually when I get meditations in, so I’m getting a lot more in now than I used to.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better, Charlie. I’m assuming it’s helping?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Definitely. Thanks for the advice.”

“Of course. It helped me, so.” He smiles lightly. “And yes, I know you’ve had your powers for a while, but everyone’s always improving.”

“Yeah.” Charlie says, and she goes quiet, looking up at the ceiling.

Cas smiles, pulling his mug to his lips and furrowing his eyebrows when nothing comes to them. When did he finish off his coffee?

Well, time always seems to fly when he’s with Charlie. He supposes that’s a side effect of having a best friend. They make time pass easier.

Cas thinks about everything he has to do, everything he wants to do. He’s sure Charlie’s feeling it all as he runs through, but he doesn’t care much, she’s definitely used to it. 

He’s gotta figure out what’s up with Gabriel and Balthazar and the toilet paper, apparently.

He should check in with Kevin, he wants to know how the kid’s doing.

Make sure Lucifer and Michael really are getting along well. 

See how people are doing with the recent room reassignments; moving can be hard, he knows.

Cas keeps going until finally he sighs, closing his eyes. “Sorry, you said hang out. And I’m thinking about all the work I have to do.” He says, opening his eyes and sitting up out of the slouch he had entered at… some point.

“Cas, it’s good, I don’t mind. You’ve got a lot of stuff rattling around up there in your head. Lots o’ stuff to do. I don’t blame you.”

“Thanks, Charlie. Do you have any more updates?”

“No. Meg’s got a leak in her bathroom, nothing she can’t fix, Crowley’s still a little bitch, um… Gabriel’s annoying. Nothing new.”

“Crowley being a little bitch is indeed, not new.” He laughs softly. “Alright, then. What do you want to do?”

Charlie pauses, before starting in a deep, mopey voice, “I don’t know, what do  _ you  _ wanna do?”

Cas tilts his head and furrows his brow, to which he earns a laugh.

“I’m perfectly fine just hanging out. But, I’m gonna go make some more coffee, kay?” Charlie stands up, holding a hand out.

Cas gets the message, handing her his mug and offering a grateful smile.

She takes the mugs into the kitchen, and he hears the coffee machine start up, and he smiles. It’s the little things that make him smile. The times when he can close his eyes and pretend everything’s normal. That he can imagine there isn’t a deep, concrete bunker underneath his feet. That Charlie is just his best, childhood friend who’s over for a visit. But he keeps his eyes open. Because honestly? Even when he’s stressed, worried, lonely, or sad, he’s helping people. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Charlie makes her way back into the living room in a similar fashion as Cas had earlier, her steps careful and her eyes focused on the mugs in her hands. Her lips press into each other, before she bites her lower lip with focus. Finally she reaches the couches, smiling and handing Cas his mug.

“Thanks.” He smiles, taking it in grateful hands and sipping lightly from it, before closing his eyes and wincing at the burn.

“Sorry, shoulda warned you. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just-”

A knock cuts him off. At first it’s three raps, urgent, then two soft knocks, as though the person had given up on being stubborn before the door had even been opened.

“... forgot. Who is that?” Cas turns to Charlie, a frown tugging on the corners of his lips. 

“How should I know?” Charlie shrugs, eyes slightly wide. “You gonna get it?”

“Um, yeah. As soon as you see them, though, head down to The Sanctuary. Let the others know someone’s here. And do  _ not _ let Gabriel go all protective big brother on me.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.”

With that, the both of them stand up, shooting each other a glance. They begin to make their way through the old house, exiting the living room and finally reaching the small entryway that Cas wouldn’t exactly call a foyer, but also wouldn’t know exactly what else to call it. Cas shoos Charlie off to a corner, before finally starting toward the door, arm outstretched toward the handle.

He pulls the door open, and it reveals a man. Maybe a couple years younger than him, but no younger than perhaps 20. His hair’s a darker dirty blonde, although Cas thinks it’ll lighten with a good wash. His skin is tanned, as though he’s spent a couple days in the sun, and his arm is clutched over his stomach. The very first thing Cas notices, though, are his eyes. Despite the rest of his appearance, they are a bright, vivid green. Full of life.

“Um, my name’s Dean. I heard you can help me?”

Cas glances over his shoulder towards Charlie, who nods, and the man- Dean’s eyebrows furrow further into his frown. “Help you with what?” Cas asks, his eyes returned to Dean.

“I, um…” Dean looks at the floor, shuffling his feet, and Cas immediately understands, his eyebrows rising. He can’t help but hold the door open, ushering the man in. 

“Come on, it’s okay. I’ll get you some food and water, we can talk when you’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I’m going to try to keep this short, I promise, but I’d rather it be here than at the end end. So, I just want to give a big huge thanks to those who agreed to beta read. On tumblr, that’s @heteroheavencar, @sorakhhikari98, and @a-really-tired-really-gay-bitch. All of your input was so valuable, and your support meant a lot. And in a fully different category is Mads, @supernatural-gay-undertones. Mads here helped me with almost every aspect of this fic other than writing, and this fic is just as much due them as it is to me. I could personally never thank them enough. And, as to a short note on the fic, this fic truly is my baby. I’ve had the idea for probably a year now, but only recently did I decide to write it. I’m so glad I did, though, and I’m so proud of it. I know you haven’t read anything after this chapter(yet, of course), but I would love to hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.


	2. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean talk, and Cas gets to know more of Dean and his power. A question lingers in Cas’ head, though. Should he let Dean into The Sanctuary?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a bit early for today, simply because I love y’all <3 (Also I’ve been excitedly waiting to post this all week, but shhhh.)

Cas gets a chance to look Dean over as he eats the sandwich Cas gave him. He looks like a good weight, but he’s eating like he hasn’t done so in a week. He’s already downed one cup of water, and is halfway through the second one. He’s wearing dirty clothes, but he doesn’t smell at all. Speaking of…

“Do you need anything else? I have fresh clothes that would probably fit you, maybe,” he gives Dean another once over, “maybe they’d be a little small, but I can certainly find something.” He does have people of all shapes and sizes a short walk away. Granted, he’s not going down to The Sanctuary in Dean’s presence, but the point stands.

“Nah, I’m good.” Dean wipes his mouth as he finishes off his sandwich. He seems to finally look at Cas, and the room is dead silent for a moment as their eyes meet.

Charlie is gone, Cas knows. She’s not in the room, for sure. Which probably means she’s downstairs, letting everyone know Dean’s here, like he told her to. Which is good, but he has a feeling Dean isn’t going to be much of a threat. One can never be too careful of course. Cas prides himself on how wary and observant he is. In the ten years since he took over, he hasn’t had one cop come by. Completely and totally discreet. 

Cas’ eyes soften as he replays the last ten minutes and remembers exactly how Dean had showed up. “Dean, do you want to talk about why you need my help?”

“Um… yeah. So, if I tell you something, you won’t report me, right?”

Cas shakes his head immediately. In fact, the thought almost brings him to laughter. If _he_ , of all people, reported Dean for anything, that might make him the world’s biggest hypocrite. Incredibly selfish, too. So he shakes his head, before continuing his gentle look, allowing and encouraging Dean to continue.

“I… I can possess people. Generally people have to try, I know, but it just… happens to me. Usually when I’m asleep.” Dean’s eyes are set on the table in front of him, and Cas feels a sting deep in his chest.

Dean’s scared.

Cas knows that feeling all too well, being scared of himself.

People with possession can easily hurt themselves or others with their power. That’s why generally, it’s a practiced magic, not a natural one. Dean seems to be an extremely rare type, though. If he’s being honest, Cas would kill to know more, but he understands. He’d never pry while Dean can’t even so much as look him in the eyes. So he reaches across the table, placing his hand over Dean’s.

Dean’s eyes immediately lift to Cas’, and they’re wide. Perhaps with understanding? Surprise? Cas isn’t quite sure. Dean continues, “It started a year ago. I thought they were just dreams at first… Ya know, vivid ones.”

“You thought you were lucid dreaming.” Cas supplies, and Dean nods.

“Yeah. But, turns out, I wasn’t. The things I did in my dreams, the people I became, they were real.”

Cas nods, squeezing Dean’s hand gently. A quiet encouragement.

“I don’t know. I’m scared, to be honest. I don’t know… when it’ll happen, I don’t know why it happens, it just does.” Dean goes quiet, and his eyes return to the table, but they look less sad than they had. He looks like he isn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Cas counts that as a win.

“Dean, can I ask a question?”

“Um, sure.”

“Is there a reason you came here? I’m perfectly happy to help you, no matter what, but why did you come _here_?” Of course, Cas knows the reason, Dean probably heard about The Sanctuary. But just in case, he should ask. He always does, and it’s usually the same. Someone told them about a place where magical people wouldn’t be prosecuted, where they would be protected and hidden, and they came running.

It scares him, honestly. Having so many people out there that just know. But at the same time he thinks it’s great. If someone needs help, if they’re having troubles with their very existence being illegal, Castiel will always help.

“Oh. Um, I have a friend, and he told me about this guy that would help people like… well, like me. He gave an address and a name. Um, James. That’s you, right?”

Oh. Yeah. 

Cas forgot about his little… pseudonym that his house is under. Well,

“My name is Castiel, but yes, I’m James.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Dean smiles a little. “It’s,” he hesitated, biting his lip, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances, but yes. And I you, Dean.”

“You’re very open to helping me. If you don’t mind my asking, do you..?”

Cas hesitates, before nodding. “Yes. My powers are… Life and Death, to be specific.” 

He watches Dean’s face shift and twist into shock and what Cas would usually file under terror. He’s fairly used to people being scared of him. There are people in The Sanctuary who genuinely run away from him. Usually newcomers. 

He doesn’t blame them.

He’s probably, out of them all, the most scared of himself.

The Life Power really is quite nice. It makes him an excellent leader, being able to heal people whenever he may need. That’s not the problem. The problem is that it came after Death.

You know, usually Life comes before Death. Castiel always did think that was weird. Charlie suggested maybe it’s nature’s way of saying magical people really are fucked even before they’re born. Cas just thinks it’s a coincidence, since killing people is effortless, while the healing takes time, practice, and concentration.

Because of course it has to work that way.

“I understand if you want to leave after hearing that, to be… completely honest with you.” Cas says, offering Dean a kind smile and pulling back the hand that he had forgotten.

It feels cold.

Cas is never cold.

It’s a side effect having a genuine fire inside your soul, he supposes.

“No, no, I don’t want to. It was just surprising.” Dean says, and he very clearly forced himself to regain his composure. Cas is grateful, though. Dean recovers quickly. That’s admirable.

“I understand.” Cas smiles. “Not very many people have the urge to stick around after I tell them.”

“Eh, all powers are the same to me.” He shrugs. “They might be different, but in the end they’re really just the same.”

“That’s an interesting take, Dean.” Cas says, and he scoots his chair in, folding his arms over the table and holding eye contact with the other man.

Dean breaks it first, shrugging and looking off to his left, toward the doorway. “It’s just my opinion.”

“I think opinions are a good way to judge someone’s character, don’t you?”

“Well… yeah, I guess.” Dean looks back to Cas. “Isn’t that obvious? I mean, it shows whatever’s…” he hesitates, and Cas tilts his head, trying to beckon the words out of Dean’s mouth. “It shows what’s goin on in someone’s head.” He says, taking a sip of his water.

“Yeah, exactly what I’m saying. The thoughts one keeps in their head often mirrors the actions they take.” Cas smiles. “You need more water?”

Dean’s staring at him, his eyebrows risen. Soon, though, he clears his throat and nods. “Yes, thank you.” 

Cas chuckles lightly, taking Dean’s water from his hand and heading toward the kitchen.

As Cas walks, he starts to think. Dean seems like a good man, he seems sincere. And he seems so… _scared_. Cas can’t help but understand. 

Cas should bring him down.

Then again, probably not so much as an hour ago, he was thinking about a shortage of supplies.

But seriously, how selfish can he be, even factoring that in?

Dean would definitely benefit from time in The Sanctuary. Cas could probably help him with controlling himself and his power.

Cas would probably benefit from some time with Dean.

The thought makes his eyes widen and his eyes shoot up from where they were settled on the cup he was filling. 

He promptly begins beating himself up for the thought.

“Professionalism, Cas.” He mutters under his breath, shaking his head. And he begins thinking like a _logical human being_ again.

Dean might need a place to stay, at least for a little bit. 

It might not be forever.

In fact, it most likely won’t be.

But if Dean needs a place, and he needs a grasp on his powers, and he needs to be a part of the community they have, well.

Why on Earth shouldn’t he let Dean in? 

Cas nods, before finally refocusing and noticing that the cup he’s holding has overrun with water. 

He lets out a grunt, turning off the faucet and dumping out some of the water, drying his hands on a dishtowel. He’s definitely glad he left some stuff up here. Cups, bowls, towels and such. Having to explain away not having any of that stuff in your home would probably get difficult fast.

He walks out of the kitchen and back to the table in the living room, sitting back down across from Dean. He slides Dean’s cup across the table, offering a light smile. “So, Dean, I’d like to tell you a story.”

“A story?”

“Yes.” His smile grows and he nods. “So, as you… well know, magic is, quite illegal.”

“Quite.” Dean teases, and Cas ignores him, nodding as though Dean had been serious.

“So, for many years, almost one hundred now, my family has been helping people with powers. At first it was little things. Housing, feeding, so on. But sixty years ago, one of us bought this land and started construction. Not on it, no, but beneath it. They created a bunker, probably over three times the size of the largest home in America.” Dean’s eyebrows are high on his forehead, and his eyes are wide. This is a predictable reaction, though, so Cas continues. 

“I’ve been running this bunker for ten years, since I was sixteen. My parents died, and since I had the most power, and maturity, they entrusted it to me with the helpful counseling of my two brothers, Gabriel and Balthazar.”

Dean cuts in here, leaning forward. “You ran an entire bunker full of magical people when you were sixteen?”

Cas nods, fairly unfazed by this question. He gets it a lot, after all. “Yeah. It was hard at first, but it was going to be hard no matter when I took over. Anyways, I was wondering if you were interested in staying at The Sanctuary. That’s what we call it. I was wondering if you wanted to stay there, even if it’s just for a little while. It would mean a lot to me to know you’re safe. And, I can probably help you with learning to control your power. If you’re interested, that is.”

“Yes!” Dean says, and he looks excited, leaning forward in his seat, until his eyes widen and he backs off. “I mean, um, yeah. I’d love that. Thank you, Cas.”

Cas smiles and nods. “I’m going to need you to trust me, though. The way there isn’t exactly… ideal. But the house, it hides and protects The Sanctuary.”

“Oh?” Dean smirks a bit and leans forward again, raising an eyebrow.

Cas rolls his eyes, standing up. “You coming?”

Dean shakes his head a little bit but his smirk melts into a smile as he stands up. He looks nervous.

Cas walks over and places his hand gently on Dean’s bicep.

Dean flinches slightly but his smile doesn’t move.

Cas takes his hand back, but his smile also remains, soft and gentle. Understanding. “Don’t be nervous. You’ll be okay. I think they’ll like you. Although I should warn you, there are… many, many people down there.”

“Down… Yeah, okay.” Dean says, and he seems to steel himself. 

Cas turns around, and starts walking.

Dean follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go, starting a bit (and only a bit, mind you,) of the plot! I hope you guys enjoyed, let me know what you thought! (Also, you can find me on tumblr by the same URL, if you’re interested!)


	3. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean make their way into The Sanctuary, and Dean gets to meet the inhabitants and Cas’ friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, Bitches! Starting now, updates can be expected on Mondays and Thursdays. So, I'll see you then, and I hope you enjoy. <3

Footsteps echo as Cas and Dean descend the staircase into the basement. Dean’s footsteps are less sure than his own, and slower. Granted, Cas walks this path all the time, and Dean’s being led into a basement by a relative stranger that he’s just told what is likely his biggest secret.

Cas doesn’t exactly blame him for being nervous.

Cas reaches the cool concrete of the basement, and he turns around, waiting for Dean to reach him.

Dean makes the final three steps, having been watching his feet, and he steps off the staircase, bumping into Cas’ chest.

Cas’ eyebrows upturn in the middle and he smiles, allowing Dean to recognize his mistake. He does, eyes wide as they shoot up to meet Cas’. He doesn’t move, though, until he notices that his hands have shot up, grabbing Cas by the biceps to steady himself. When he realizes this, he immediately jumps back, hands up in the air.

Cas laughs softly, unable to help himself, before turning around and bending down, pushing away a rug and opening a trapdoor that had been concealed underneath. He glances back at Dean from his squat on the floor, and Dean’s eyebrows are pulled up, but other than that, he looks forward with interest.

“You wanna go first?” Cas asks, his smile overtaking his face. Dean seems wary, and Cas is sympathetic, but he does find it the least bit amusing.

“No, um, you can.” Dean says, and Cas nods, bracing his hands on the sides of the trapdoor before hopping in. He drops into the darkness of the entryway, and he feels around to his right until he finds the light switch, switching it upwards. The drab, concrete lined hallway lights up with warm, yellowish lights and he looks up at the opened trapdoor before stepping back, allowing it to sit open for Dean.

Maybe a minute later, he sees Dean’s feet, and watches as Dean very gently lowers himself into the hallway. 

Cas’ stomach does  _ not _ twist. Not even a little.

Dean finally hits the ground and he looks around, eyebrows furrowed. “This is… weird.” He mumbles, before finally looking at Cas.

Cas laughs. “This is just the entryway. Follow me.” He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently pushes him to the side so he can get past. Even then they’re chest to chest as he moves, but he’s quick about it, and he’s soon walking toward the door at the end of the hallway. It’s heavy duty and multiple times locked, and Cas is already pulling out his keys for it.

About thirty seconds after he starts walking, he hears Dean’s footsteps behind him. 

He starts talking, but not turning his head as Dean follows. “So, I’m going to make an announcement about your arrival. We have a lot of people, though, so it’s unlikely everyone will get to meet you today anyways. You’ll probably meet my group, my right hands and such. My brothers will probably be nearby, and my best friend and closest advisor Charlie is interested in meeting you, I’m sure. Everyone already knows you’re here, though, so,” Cas stops short a foot away from the door. Dean’s eyes are wide as he attempts to put the brakes on his own feet. He hardly succeeds. “I don’t suggest you try anything.” 

Suddenly Cas’ eyes are stern, no sign of the warmth that had been there minutes before. His tone is the same, flat and lacking any kindness, but instead passion. Not for Dean. Maybe at him, but not for him.

He will protect this place and its community with a burning passion, forever. Until the day he dies, The Sanctuary and the people inhabiting it will be his highest priority, and he will serve them the best he possibly can and better.

If Dean does anything to jeopardize that, well.

He’ll regret it.

And Cas’ eyes portray all of this, in his steely blue gaze.

In what Cas assumes is an appropriate reaction, Dean’s eyes widen and he puts his hands up. “Yeah, I know. I would never.” He nods, and Cas believes him. Down to the depths of his heart, Cas believes Dean means no harm.

Cas turns around and begins unlocking the door, moving from one lock to the next with practiced ease. Finally, he reaches the bottom. He glances over his shoulder, before turning the final key and pulling it out. Dean looks excited, actually, which eases all of Cas’ nerves and uncertainties as he pushes the door open.

And once again, he’s looking over his shoulder, because Dean’s expression is just far too good to pass up.

His eyes are wide with wonder as he takes in the place from above. They’re standing on the little metal entrance that leads to the staircase to the common room, so they have a perfect Birdseye of The Sanctuary. 

Cas never measured it before, but he’s fairly certain that the first room they’re in, also lined with concrete on all sides, is about 15,000 square feet. To their right, there are couches set up, huddled around a fireplace. To the left, there are hallways leading off into corridors full of all sorts of rooms. In the center, people stand, sit, and just generally hang out. Children run this way and that, playing tag or hide and seek. Little cardboard and blanket forts are made up. The room is full of life. The sight never fails to bring a grin to his face. He takes his eyes off of the scene before him, looking to Dean. His lips are open in an ‘o’ and his eyes are wide. 

Cas smiles, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder, before beginning to make his way down the staircase. He calls out with what Charlie calls his boss voice, “I know you all know already, but we have a newcomer. Everybody,” he turns back, gesturing to Dean, who had only just started to follow, “this is Dean.”

Dean offers a slight wave, and most of the room goes quiet for a moment. Some kids are shy, hiding behind legs, and some are tugging at guardian’s sleeves to go meet him. Most people, though, are staying in their spot.

They know the drill; Cas comes to you, he’ll introduce you as he passes, but you have to introduce yourself further if you’re curious or interested.

Cas reaches the bottom of the staircase, looking back at Dean. Dean walks an extra six steps before he’s beside Cas, and his eyes are scanning the room very carefully.

“Would you like me to introduce you to the others first?” He asks, and Dean nods.

“Yeah. Yes, please, I’d love to meet them.”

“Okay.” Cas smiles, and he starts walking. 

Of course,  _ naturally _ , Gabriel runs up to them, his grin taking up over half his face. His golden wings even flutter a bit, and Cas considers that perhaps they’re even pushing him across the room faster. He lets out a light laugh, before offering his hand to Dean.

“Gabri-“ Cas manages to get out, before Gabriel is shaking Dean’s hand.

“Nice to meet ya, newbie.” He says, around a lollipop stuck between his right molars. His hand vigorously shakes Dean’s, and Dean’s eyes are wide, but he nods. “I’m Gabriel.” 

Cas, meanwhile, has his head down, his eyes closed, and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

He hears Dean say, “Yeah, I’m Dean. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

The two of them talk for not even two minutes longer, before Cas finally comes to his senses and pushes Gabriel away, just as he’s about to start talking about Cas. Yeah, absolutely not, Cas would much rather avoid that.

Cas waves Charlie over to be the second person Dean meets, and she moves at an  _ acceptable _ pace, smiling. When she gets to them, she waves, and she wears a smile, but her eyebrows are furrowed a bit.

“Dean, this is Charlie. She’s my best friend and my right hand woman. Helps me out a lot around here. She’s an empath.” Cas smiles at Dean, then his eyes move to Charlie.

“Charlie, Dean. He’s a possessor, and he’s going to be moving in. At least… I think so?” His eyebrows furrow up in the middle and he looks at Dean, who nods.

“Oh, yeah! I’d love to stay. It’s um, it’s nice to meet you.” Dean says to Cas, then to Charlie. His hands are folded in front of him, and then he sticks them in his pockets. 

Okay, maybe a bit of a germaphobe?

Shy, perhaps?

Cas’ll be sure to ask about that.

Charlie’s smile melts into a gentle one and she puts her hands in her pockets too. Solidarity, Cas thinks, and the action makes him smile. “I’m glad you’re staying. You’ll like it here, it’s nice. And, um,” she looks up at Cas, and he just  _ knows _ something bad is going to happen, “Our  _ fearless leader  _ here sure is excited you’re staying. He’s been getting antsy, no new people to help.” With that, she nudges him in the ribs with her elbow, and he grips his side. 

“Charlie Bradbury, I swear to god-“

“Bye!” She grins, running off. “Balthazar’s with Lucifer in distribution if you want to introduce Dean to him!”

Cas, despite himself, can feel a light tint to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, she’s… I can’t really control her.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at Dean, who’s smiling, but also clearly curious about something.

“Lucifer? Balthazar? Hell, Castiel? What kind of names are these?” He laughs softly, clearly off of The Charlie Encounter.

“Oh, um.” Cas laughs, looking down at the floor. “Yeah, Balthazar, Gabriel and I were all named after angels. I, in particular, am named after the Angel of Thursday. And my parents were close to Lucifer and Michael’s, who did the same thing.” 

Dean nods, chewing on his lower lip, and once again, Cas’ stomach does that thing that is already happening far too often around Dean.

“Religious folks, huh?” Dean asks, and Cas simply nods with a smile. 

“Yeah. It was never much of my scene, but they weren’t bad.”

Dean nods, as though he understands. Perhaps he does. 

They walk up to Jenny next, and Dean introduces her to Cas and vice versa. Jenny’s fangs scratch dangerously against her lip, but draw no blood. Cas smiles, offering a, “your lips are getting tougher against your fangs.” And she nods excitedly, before walking away. Not much there.

They walk up to Alfie, still in his red and white striped uniform from his work at the Weiner Hut. 

He squints at Dean for a moment in a way that makes Cas smile. Good, he’s practicing his reading. In a few seconds, though, he offers his hand to Dean, and Dean shakes.

“Alfie, Dean. Dean, Alfie. Dean, Alfie here is an aura reader.” At that, Dean pulls his hand back, and Cas understands, so he doesn’t mention it. “Alfie, Dean is a possessor.” Alfie nods, as though something suddenly makes sense, and Cas? He’d be lying if he said that didn’t at least minorly concern him. But he brushes it off, seeing as he’s just missed whatever Alfie said and half of what Dean’s said so far. 

“-I’m probably going to be staying, Cas said he could help me with my powers and such, so…” Dean shrugs. 

Alfie looks at Cas with raised eyebrows. Cas shrugs it off, rubbing the back of his neck again. It seems as though Dean has entitled himself to the nickname only Cas’ closest friends and family use.

It seems to roll off Dean’s tongue with ease.

Cas likes it there.

Alfie recovers much better than Cas, nodding. “Yeah, well, Castiel is an amazing mentor. His powers are nowhere similar to mine, and yet he still helped me, and he found me people who could help me.” Alfie smiles up at Cas, and Cas returns the look. 

“Alfie’s much wiser than his seventeen years, sure, but I’m going to have to say he’s wrong on this one.” Cas says, looking at Dean. “Really, I just did what I was supposed to. It’s both my job and my pleasure.” 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Dean and Alfie both say at the same time, leading them to smile at each other.

Cas is glad they’re getting along. He was worried Dean wouldn’t blend at first; not many people do. But he’s doing just fine, speaking to everyone with ease and a charming smile that Cas is getting to know very well today.

They leave Alfie to his devices, whatever else he was doing, and Cas begins his tour. He starts with the living room esque section of the common room. Many mismatched couches are crowded around a fireplace and a TV. The TV is large, so as to reach everyone in the room, but it’s currently off. It almost always is, ‘till movie night. Dean walks up to one of the couches, green and broken in, putting his hand on the back of it.

“Lots of seats.” He says, voice slightly impressed.

“Lots of people.” Cas reminds him with a smile. He walks over to the couches, sitting down on the one Dean had picked out. Dean follows, sitting beside him. They’re a good distance away from the fireplace, and Cas can’t feel the heat, but they stare at the fire anyways. Cas is glad they’re not closer, he always sits far away anyways. He tends to run hot.

Dean nods, looking around. Children sit on couches, cross legged and facing each other. Couples sit together, one in the others lap or one with their arm around the other. Teenagers aren’t allowed to share a room without parental permission, so they generally get their time together in the common room. Which, okay, yeah. Cas was a teenager too, he understands. 

But the blush creeping up his neck at the fact that Dean and him, too, are in this room, sitting on a couch,  _ maybe _ an inch apart, well he hopes it goes unnoticed. 

“Well? You’ve only seen one room, I get, but what do you think?”

“It’s nice.” Dean says, casually throwing his arms up on the back of the couch.

Oh.

Okay then.

“It’s nice?” Cas asks, his smile teasing.

“Well, yeah. The people are nice and it’s a cool place. I’m excited to stay.”

“Let me finish showing you around, hm?” Cas says, forcing himself to stand.

They go to the far left of the common room, dodging running children and lingering adults.

There’s a doorway there, large and grand. Three hallways veer off, one to the left, one to the right, and one just down center.

“Alright, I can get you set up with your room first,” he looks at Dean, who stands to his right, “or I can give you the tour of everything else first. You have a preference?”

“No, I’m good. Whatever you want.” Dean says, his hands back in his pockets. 

“Alright, well, I’ll show you the cafeteria and distribution. That’s the most important part.” Cas offers, and he receives a nod.

Cas walks down the hallway to the left, walking a little slower than usual for Dean to catch up, usually quick due to habit. He knows The Sanctuary by heart, having grown up there. He tells Dean as such, watching doors and counting them as he passes.

“You grew up here?”

“Yeah. Well, I told you it was a family tradition, right? Plenty of other people are raised here, though. Charlie was born here, Kevin, a telepath, was brought here when he manifested at nine, which was early for a telepath. Lucifer and Michael were raised here as well. People find it best to… raise their children in a safe environment, powers or no powers, you know?”

“Are you going to have kids? Or, do you want to? Or...have them?” Dean asks, and, wow does that throw Cas for a loop.

“Oh, um, I don’t have children, no. Claire’s like a daughter to me, she was orphaned as a child, but other than her, no. I might want kids someday. Someone to pass this down to. Although I don’t know if I’d like to put all that stress on a kid.”

“Claire?”

“Yes. Her parents died when she was… Two years old, I think. She’s an empath. She’s 17 now, and mostly under my supervision. I practically raised her as my own.” Cas smiles lightly, his eyes on the floor for a moment. “We’ll go to the cafeteria first, you may be able to meet her, and then we’ll stop by distribution on our way to your room.”

“She cooks?”

Cas actually laughs. He can’t help it. “Oh, no. She and her girlfriend hunt for The Sanctuary.”

And Dean’s expression makes it all worth it. His eyebrows are raised and his lips make that little ‘o’ again. He nods, blinking.

Cas chuckles lightly, and they walk in silence.

Strangely enough, it’s comfortable. Cas feels a connection to this man, a bond, and it hasn’t even been a day of knowing him. Okay, sure, he’ll admit it, he’s attracted to him, but there’s something else. The glint in his eye, the way that he smiles, the way that words just seem to flow out of Cas’ mouth when he’s with Dean.

Dean is special.

They reach the end of the hallway and there are double doors; the very first pair in the hallway. Cas steps forward, pushing them open and holding them for Dean. Dean walks through, looking around. 

The room is a lot like a school cafeteria, and some people have said it’s one of the most familiar rooms to them because of this. There are many circular black tables and a few long ones, too. And directly across from the doors, there’s a little assembly line for food. 

Cas walks up to Dean, leaning in close and whispering, “Don’t worry, I hear it’s much better than your average cafeteria food.”

“You hear? What, too good for the peasants’ food?” Dean asks, laughing softly. 

“Oh, I eat every meal here. I’ve just never had cafeteria food.” Cas smiles lightly, shrugging.

“Ah. Well, you’re better off without, my- my school, when I was younger, fed us some of the worst food.”

Cas shook his head. “That’s terrible. Yeah, we have good food here. And an education system. Not by any means as good as it is outside, unfortunately, but some kids choose to do school online.”

Dean nods, and Cas curses inwardly for rambling.

He clears his throat. “Anyways, you want to go see the kitchen?”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe I can help out in there sometime.”

“Your assistance, I’m sure, would be much appreciated. That boy, Kevin, the telepath, he works in there with his mother.”

Dean opens his mouth to speak, eyebrows raised, before he says, “You know what, they probably don’t want me in there. I’m shit in the kitchen.”

Cas nods, laughing slightly. “Don’t worry, we can find something for you if you want to help out.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, Cas, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Of course, Dean. It’s only if you want to help, I’m not going to make you.” Cas begins a slow walk toward the kitchen, Dean at his side. 

“No, I want to help. I like helping.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas smiles, stopping at the door to the kitchen and looking at Dean.

Dean’s expression is blank and he’s looking into the kitchen, but Cas is still… staring. He can’t help himself. Even with the exception of Dean’s eyes, he’s an amazing looking man. Handsome. Hell, pretty is an accurate word. Cas wants to look through a thesaurus under ‘attractive’ and call Dean by every last word there. And it’d all be true.

Dean turns to Cas as he clears his throat, opening up the door. “You coming?” Cas asks.

Dean nods, stepping through and looking around the kitchen. It’s not large, just like a small restaurant’s kitchen. No one’s there, as lunch has just passed and Ms. Tran is taking her break.

Cas turns to Dean, pressed against a wall in the hallway of the kitchen. Dean is just across from him, leaning against a stove and looking around.

“This is where you’ll eat.” Cas says. “Well not in here. In the cafeteria.”

Dean nods. “I mean, I wasn’t looking to eat on the stove, Cas.” He says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Cas shakes his head, starting for the door to the kitchen. “Coming?”

“Yeah.” Dean says, and Cas hears a few quick footfalls before Dean is by his side, only to stop so Cas can go through the narrow doorway. Cas stops though, and glances at Dean, gesturing.

Dean rolls his eyes and laughs, walking through the door. 

And Cas, well, he takes an extra second to step through.

He watches Dean, a soft, gentle smile on his face. There’s a glimmer in his eye and he’s happy. He says so. “Dean, I’m happy we met. Maybe not under these circumstances, and perhaps not even here, but I’m glad we met.”

“Oh.” Dean murmurs, and he sort of freezes.

_ Fuck _ .

Dean continues with a, “yeah, me too, Cas,” but it’s not very sincere. 

Cas bites his lip, walking through the door. “Okay, distribution’s next, but we’ll just stop by and get you some basic supplies. No need to stay too long.” He says, walking past Dean and gesturing for him to follow.

He does.

They walk down the hall in relative silence, people passing them every once in a while, whether go get snacks from the cafeteria, to go to the gym, or to go to distribution, or something else. Cas isn’t entirely sure, he isn’t watching them. He’s on a general cycle between keeping his eyes on his path, looking at Dean, looking at his feet, repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat. 

“We’re here.” Cas says, stopping short at one of the doors.

Dean walks a few paces back from where he’d been ahead, glancing in the door. “So what is this?”

“This is where supplies are distributed. Everything other than cafeteria meals can be requested here. We have resident shoppers, like Gabriel and Balthazar, and people who go out and work to get money, like Lucifer and Michael. This is where all the stuff goes, where it gets picked up and dropped off, etcetera.” Cas shrugs, and Dean laughs.

“Etcetera?”

“Yes. Come on.” Cas says, face twisted into an obviously faux annoyance as he opens the door to the distribution room.

Dean walks through, Cas following. There’s not many places they can walk, but it’s a giant room. Dean and Cas are in front of a counter, though, blocking them from everything. 

Balthazar is behind the counter, and he glances toward them, before walking over. “Cassie! How goes it?”

Dean huffs out a laugh, but he glances at Cas, not saying a word.

Cas sighs, shaking his head. “It’s going. Dean here, he’s new. He needs supplies for his room.”

“Ah. Well, I’ve got you. Nice to meet you, Dean.” Balthazar walks over, offering his hand. 

Dean shakes it carefully. “Same to you.”

Balthazar leaves, looking for their ‘starter packs’ as he calls them, and Dean turns to Cas. “What can he do?”

“Well, Balthazar has a mutation, obviously.” He says, gesturing to his brother. This is one of the rare occasions that his grey, pigeon-like wings are showing throw holes in his shirt that Cas had helped him cut. “Wings are a common mutation in my family, as you could see by Gabriel.”

“Yeah but Gabriel’s were…”

“Golden.” Cas finishes for him. “And twice the size. I know. No one really knows how the appearance of a mutation is decided. I… I, myself was born with wings. Black, and slightly iridescent. They were small, though, and limp. I couldn’t even move them. They got cut off.” Cas says, fiddling with his hands. “Anyways, um, Balthazar can teleport. Quite quickly, actually, because of his wings.”

Dean nods. “That’s why he moves around so fast in here?”

“Yes.” Cas smiles, because Dean understands. And he also understands that the wings? Not exactly something Cas enjoys talking about. 

Balthazar walks back over, setting a bag in front of Dean. “There you go. Toilet paper, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, snack food, toothbrush, anything you need.”

“Thank you, Balthazar.” Cas says, beginning to lead Dean out of the room.

Dean follows, falling into step at Cas’ side. Their steps sync up, and Cas smiles lightly, listening to the sound of their footsteps together. 

They reach the area where the hallways originally started, and Cas just walks straight ahead, into the hallway that was originally to the right. Dean stops momentarily and Cas glances over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. Dean is by his side in less than two seconds.

They walk for a while, Cas watching the numbers on each door until he comes across the right one: 67. Recently vacant, and in perfect condition.

Dean lets out a soft chuckle when they get there, and honestly, Cas doesn’t question it.

Cas pulls out his much larger key ring, fumbling and searching for a moment before pulling off the key with the black ‘67’, handing it to Dean. “Here. That’s your key. I have one too, but only for safety reasons.”

“Or late night visits? In case of booty call, break the glass?” Dean smirks, a new glint in his eye.

Cas’ eyes widen and he flushes, staring at Dean. “Um,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah- I mean, no, obviously! I don’t… Yeah, no. You know what, you just… Yeah. Have fun in your room, I’m gonna go check on Charlie and… and stuff. Yeah.” He threw up awkward finger guns, starting a quick walk away. By now, his brain has fully shut down and retreated to a bad, bad, bad, extremely gay, autopilot. “Have fun- Well not- Uh, Make yourself at home!” And then, fully and completely on autopilot, like a fucking teenager, he speedwalks down the hallway, perfectly set on never looking Dean in the eyes never again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, m’loves! I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought! You can also find me on tumblr @theselfhatingangelofthursday


	4. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gay Panic Support Squad comes to the rescue! Charlie and Kevin assist in recon after Cas' encounter with Dean, and Dean begins getting himself acquainted with The Sanctuary and its inhabitants.

Cas walks with a rather impressive speed, eyes wide as his brain runs, well. At an even more impressive speed.

What.

In the ever loving fuck.

Was that?

What’s wrong with him? 

He pulls out a small walkie talkie dot, that connects him immediately to Charlie with the spin of a dial to a ‘C’ and the click of a button. 

He presses down on the button, holding it to his mouth. “Charlie,  _ help _ .”

“You’re gay for the new guy?”

“I’m incredibly gay for the new guy.”

Charlie laughs slightly, before her microphone goes off, and Cas just knows she’s laughing her ass off about this.

Eventually she comes back on. “Kevin and I are in the common room, if you’d like to join us.” She’s barely suppressing giggles, and Kevin is openly laughing at him.

“You know what, I do not appreciate my friends laughing at me.”

“The gay panicking is amusing, Cas. You should be laughing with us.”

“Charlie, I did  _ finger guns _ .”

The dot goes silent again and Cas rolls his eyes, quick on his feet on his journey to the common room.

“Cas, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Charlie, it was that bad. I’m on my way.” And with that, he sticks the dot back into his pocket, allowing his brain to blank out, hoping not to think about Dean at all until he reaches the common room.

He fails.

Dean’s face…

What he said?

You know, flirting should not be this unfamiliar to him.

It’s kind of sad, actually.

He walks up to a grey couch in the common room, where Charlie and Kevin sit on opposite ends, having been talking. Cas sits in the middle, looking at Charlie out of the side of his eye, not turning to her.

She smiles, but is clearly forcing it down, possibly about to laugh. She pats his knee, letting out a soft giggle. “You’ll be fine, Cas. What happened?”

“Well, I showed him around, to the cafeteria and distribution, as usual. And then I walked him to his bedroom, handed him his key, and he…” Cas trails off.

“He..?” Charlie begins for him, leaning forward. In his peripheral vision, he sees Kevin doing the same. Well, Cas is glad he gave them something to be interested in, at least.

“I said that I had a spare key too, just, as a forewarning. Like I always do. And he said something about booty calls and honestly it’s kinda blurry after that.”

“He  _ what _ ?” Kevin leans forward further, on the edge of tilting forward and falling.

Cas chuckles lightly, his eyes on the floor and his hand scrubbing at the back of his head. “Yeah, um… Looking back on it, he may have been flirting with me? Or teasing me?”

Charlie puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Castiel Novak, you, my good friend, are a dumbass.”

Cas looks at her, his shoulders dropping a little.

What does she mean?

That he’s wrong?

That he’s right?

That making assumptions is stupid and pointless?

That he never should have reacted that way?

Possibilities flood his head and-

“-ikes you, even if it is just physical attraction. You could  _ totally _ \- Hey, Cas, are you okay?” Charlie breaks through the fog in his eyes and he raises his eyebrows. “What? Oh, yeah, sorry. I got distracted.”

“Castiel, if you need to go take a break…” Kevin cuts in, eyes a bit more concerned than Charlie’s. Cas might even call it… understanding.

“No, I’m fine, truly. Don’t worry about me. I think I’m better now.” Cas presses a hand to his chest in a show of, ‘look, I’m fine!’, and both Charlie and Kevin nod. 

“So, you’re gonna hang out with him, right?” Kevin asks, and Cas can’t help but smile.

Charlie agrees with Kevin, even going so far as to say, “I second that notion.”

“Guys, I’m literally just going to let it happen. If it does, great! But I refuse to force anything on him. The man could be straight for all I know!”

“Bullshit.” Charlie and Kevin say in perfect unison, and Cas sighs, shaking his head.

* * *

Cas trudges into the cafeteria at 8am, empty coffee cup in hand. He greets people with a smile, but is well and truly dying inside.

He walks to the kitchen, offering Kevin and Ms. Tran a bit more, stopping to talk as he pours his coffee. Near the end, though, Ms. Tran pushes a plate of eggs and bacon into his hand, and he smiles gratefully, the conversation over.

He walks out of the kitchen, scanning the room for a place to sit. Dean sits alone at a table, quickly scarfing up eggs. Well…

Cas should check in on him.

It’s the right thing to do.

Cas walks over, sitting down across from Dean, picking up his own fork. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hiya, Cas.” Dean smiles, his mouth full as he speaks.

For once in his life, Cas actually finds that endearing.

“How’re you settling in?”

“I’m good.” Dean swallows, then clears his throat. “People are everywhere, though. I’ve met like ten people just this morning.”

“Ah yes.” Cas says, voice flat as he looks around the table. “I can see all these invisible, inaudible people just crowding your table.”

“Shut up, Cas.” Dean laughs softly, picking up a strip of bacon and ripping a bite off of it with his teeth.

Cas smiles, leaning forward. “Never.”

* * *

Movie nights are always a pleasure. When Balthazar offered the first time, Cas was unsure, but now? 

They’re Cas’ refuge. One of the very few things he looks forward to.

Aside from his time with Dean, which is already quite abundant in just a week of Dean being here.

Well, it’s time for Dean’s very first movie night in The Sanctuary. Cas made sure Balthazar put on one of their best: Indiana Jones.

Charlie, Kevin, Gabriel, and Dean are all on one of the largest couches, one space still left open for Cas, next to Dean.

Oh no.

He has to be pressed against Dean for an entire movie.

Whatever shall he do?

On a side note, he’s going to murder them all for this. 

He squeezes into his spot, offering Dean a small smile.

Dean returns the smile, and asks if Cas has ever seen this movie. Cas reads Dean’s expression, of pure excitement, and well.

He lies.

“No, I haven’t. Is it good?”

Dean’s eyes light up and Cas swears, he could hear Dean talk about this for years.

Nevertheless, overcome with fatigue after a long day of work, Cas falls asleep on Dean’s shoulder, before the movie is even halfway through.

* * *

Dean and Cas have both breakfast and lunch together every day, and dinner on Fridays.

Only on Fridays, because, well, that’s when he eats with his friends. And hance, it became the only day he had a valid excuse to not eat while running around The Sanctuary.

That, much like movie nights, became sort of a… sanctuary within The Sanctuary.

Cas looks down his plate at that, poking at the food with his fork and smiling.

Okay, yeah.

He likes Dean.

* * *

Cas rather enjoys eye contact. 

He’s known for it.

It shouldn’t be new, it shouldn’t be weird, it should just be normal.

He’s actually made people uncomfortable, been told to take a step or two back because of it.

But  _ Dean _ .

He can’t help but look at Dean. 

When he looks away, every molecule in his body, every ounce of his existence, his soul, his  _ grace _ , it all  _ screams _ for him to look at Dean. It burns with a yearning fire that, despite being almost literally on fire his whole life, he has never felt before.

He’s finally gotten used to being in Dean’s room.

It took a while.

But see, he currently sits on Dean’s bed as Dean talks music. Something something Zeppelin, something something AC/DC, and Cas is listening as hard as he possibly can. With a passion.

But Dean’s flow of speech slows, and finally comes to a halt. He shrugs, looking at Cas, and oh.

There it is.

The fire in his soul, the extra pound to his heart as it beats against his chest, sending little flairs of the good kind of pain a little bit of everywhere.

His lips quirk up in a slight smile, but his expression doesn’t change at all.

He sees little moments with Dean, past and maybe even future.

He can almost feel a phantom touch on his lower lip.

He bites down on the spot where he had felt it, his tongue moving to wetten the spot.

Dean’s eyes finally break the contact, and for but a moment, Cas feels as though he’s been released. But all Dean’s eyes do is drag down his face, like a gentle, worshipping touch, before shooting back up to meet Cas’ own eyes after sparing his lips a glance.

“Dean?” Cas asks in a small voice, extremely rare around others but common in moments like this.

“Yeah?”

Cas sucks his lip back between his teeth, before letting it out at the same time as his sigh. “I’m gonna, I have to, um… Job. I have to do stuff, uh, Gabriel needs money from Lucifer and I don’t trust them together so I’ll just, uh,” he stands up, starting toward the door, “yeah. Sorry.”

Dean nods, eyes focused on the floor. “Yeah, man, I get it. No worries.”

Cas steps out of the room, waving slightly, before shutting the door behind him, letting out a long breath that he had no idea he’d been holding. He buries his head in his hands, leaning back against the door.

“C’mon, Cas, pull it together,” he mutters to himself, eyes closed as though in prayer, “it’s not just in the having.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, have a little Despair reference sprinkled in, courtesy of Cas' impeccable self-control. I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought, either here of on my tumblr, @theselfhatingangelofthursday!


	5. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean spend more and more time together, and Cas begins to notice Dean seems... just as drawn to Cas as Cas is to Dean. It's comforting, and warm, but what will it lead to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it, guys! Say hello to Chapter 5, the last Cas chapter. Well, for five more chapters, that is. Enjoy!

After a long day of running around, Cas is tired. Simple as that. The place is finally asleep, everyone is in their room, and Cas is finally, blissfully, finished with the day’s work.

He collapses.

He doesn’t even fully catch onto which couch in the common room he’s on, just that he’s face down, eyes closed, and maybe drooling.

His feet hang over the armrest and his head rests on his arms, and he knows for a fact that he will be in pain in the morning. He just cannot and will not move.

Just as his brain starts slipping away, his mind shifts to Dean. Just as it always does before sleep.

He pictures soft green eyes.

Freckles, lightly dusting cheekbones and the bridge of a nose.

Hair that spikes up in the front.

Lips, pink and soft, that curl up into a half smile, half smirk. That move so quickly and happily when talking about something he enjoys.

Cas stares at the ceiling high above him, thinking thoughts of Dean. Just Dean. 

He thinks of the brush of Dean’s skin, their hands touching as Dean casually brushed his hand over Cas’ at lunch that day.

He thinks of how Dean holds his gaze, every day. Like a staring match, between children. But much more intense, while still somehow being tentative and careful.

Like a dam, holding back an entire ocean.

Cas can’t help but imagine breaking the dam.

Filling the gap.

He loses himself in the fantasy, before being rudely awakened from his sleepy thoughts of Dean by footsteps that echo loudly in the large room. They’re trying to repress themselves, and failing vastly.

After the first loud step, they falter, but then continue, and Cas lets out a soft groan, throwing his arm over his eyes. He most definitely should have gone up to his house. Or even to one of the rooms. He can’t help but feel like some sort of dramatic teenager, but he doesn’t care.

The footsteps falter again, before starting up again, growing louder, then louder, then they finally stop, and he hears in a voice that should _not_ be in his ears at 1am. Hell no. Bad idea.

Also he’s just tired. 

“Cas?”

Cas moves his arm, settling it above his head and looking at Dean. “What are you doing up at this hour, Dean?”

“Oh, um, I was getting some water. Why are you on the couch?” Dean asks, circling the couch itself. “And why aren’t you asleep?”

Cas flushes very lightly, his mind grazing over its own thoughts for the last twenty minutes. “Uh, well… long day. Too tired to really… move. And I don’t know, I’m thinking.”

“About?” Dean asks, sitting on the arm rest of the couch nearest to Cas’ head. 

Cas is not addicted to the way Dean looks from below. Not even a little bit.

“Ah, things. I have duties to fulfil for tomorrow, people to check in on. You’re one of them.”

“Well, no need to check in now. I mean, unless you so desperately wish to.” Dean smirks a little, letting the tease hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “It’s, what, one in the morning? Stop thinking about work for once. You’re obviously tired.”

“I’m well aware that I’m tired, Dean.” Cas says, but he offers a smile. “And yes.” He flips over, laying on his stomach. “I do so ‘desperately wish’ to check in on you.” This one is a full tease, and he hopes he’s giving Dean even just an ounce of his own medicine. He sits up, and Dean moves into the spot where Cas’ head had once been.

Dean laughs softly. “Alright, sleepyhead. You wanna talk for a bit? Maybe I can help you sleep.” The tone is so tender, Cas is sure he visibly melts.

It may or may not be due to the fact that Cas cas fallen hopelessly in love with this man in the matter of a month.

It’s times like these he can see exactly why.

“If you’d like, Dean. It sounds nice.”

“Tell you what, I’ll put a movie on that giant TV over there. You can watch, or you can talk, or you can sleep. Although my personal preference would be the latter, it’s up to you.”

Cas nods, transfixed on the… pure intimacy of this moment. He doesn’t think it’s just him, either. Dean’s less than an inch away, smiling down at Cas(only down due to Cas’ exhausted slump) his eyes locked on Cas’.

Cas wonders, does Dean feel the same thing? The pounding in his chest? The magnets in his very soul, drawing him?

Cas moves closer to Dean, handing him the remote. “You choose.”

Dean smiles, taking the remote. “Thanks, Cas.” 

* * *

Dean chooses some western movie that Cas has never seen, and he happily speaks about it, fun facts spilling out of his mouth here and there.

Cas listens closely as his tired brain ebbs in and out of consciousness, focusing as hard as it can on such low possible brain power.

At some point, Dean reaches over, very carefully, and wraps his arm around Cas. 

Cas goes frigid, suddenly sobered out of his sleepy daze, before he relaxes, sinking into the spot next to Dean. He feels safe in Dean’s arms. Both protected, shielded from the world, and also as though he could go and take it over himself.

Dean makes Cas feel powerful.

He boils Cas’ blood in the best of ways.

Cas falls asleep, dreaming of the man wrapped around him and lying beneath him.

* * *

He awakes to whispered conversation, below and above him. He lets out a grumble of, “shut up,” nuzzling down further into the cool mass below him.

He hears a distinctive giggle and a light chuckle. He’d know those sounds anywhere.

He puts his hands on the mass below him - Dean’s chest - and pushes down, his body leaning back into a lazy ‘u’. His eyes widen and he looks around.

Dean had shifted at one point in the night, and now the both of them are on the couch, laying down, Cas on top of him.

Cas is going to scream. 

He looks up, and sees Charlie, smirking.

Like the cat that got the fucking cream, he thought.

He scrambles to stand up, looking around the room. People generally ignore him, excepting a few waves and ‘good morning’s.

Cas is, in a word, mortified. 

“What time is it?” Cas asks, eyes set on Charlie and very pointedly not Dean.

“Eleven.” Charlie says, before checking her phone. “Thirty. Eleven thirty.”

“Wait, I…” Cas’ eyes are even wider, and his brain scrambles for scraps of the list of things he has to do.

He mumbles one last solid, “fuck,” before running the other way.

* * *

Cas had hoped that doing his work would be a decent distraction.

He had been wrong.

Cas does everything he had intended to in record time and thoroughness. But eventually he’s done with a visit, and he stands outside the door, staring at a wall in front of him. 

He glances around, before rolling up his sleeves, muttering, “okay, I can just…” before walking up to the vacant room nearest him and walking inside.

* * *

Cas gets everywhere. All the vacant rooms are scrubbed, all the sheets are changed, hell, he even scrubs blood off the sparring floor.

He checks in with a young telekinetic, a 14 year old boy named Daniel. He says when his binder hurts his chest, he loses control of his powers, so Cas sits down with him and researches some new options for binders, as well as time frames for wear to make pain less likely. He also promises to check in on him when he’s on his next rounds. By the end of their session, they’ve found one to order, and Cas does just that. Lucifer will certainly yell at him for the random money loss, but he doesn’t care much for Lucifer’s opinion this way or that.

He checks on Claire and they talk a bit, and Claire seems extra prickly. Cas doesn’t prod, though, just gives her a gentle smile and leads her into pleasant conversation.

Gabriel is in the gym, and Cas sees him when he goes to check on the drying floor. Gabriel’s has his wings spread, his back against the wall. He looks down at a ruler, also against the wall, chuckling under his breath like an idiot.

“Testing your wingspan again?” Cas asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Hiya Cassie. Yes, indeed I am. Eight and a half feet.” Gabriel tucks his wings in, putting his hands on his hips. “Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.”

Cas rolls his eyes at both the nickname and the entire sentiment, crouching down and touching the floor. “Gabriel, you already have the largest, and most able wings in The Sanctuary. Must you rub it in?” 

“You know it, little bro.” Gabriel walks over, ruffling Cas’ hair just before he stands up. 

Cas shoots Gabriel a look, and he puts his hands up. “I know, I know. I groomed ‘em this morning, though, so it was a good time. See?” Gabriel turns around, spreading his wings slightly. 

Cas nods, smiling a bit. “Yeah. Good for you. Have you tried to go out at nighttime and fly yet?”

“I was planning on it soon.” Gabriel turns around, looking at Cas again. “Enough about me, though. What about you? I know your little workaholic ways, and I see right through them. What’s up?” Gabriel slings an arm over Cas’ shoulders, his wing hovering over the same spot, almost protectively.

Cas’ voice immediately drops and he grumbles, “nothing,” walking with Gabriel.

Of course, you can’t even hope of getting a “nothing” past Gabriel Novak.

Gabriel pokes and prods for a bit, not really letting the topic change but not pushing it completely on Cas.

Eventually Cas shakes his head, shrugging. “It’s Dean. That’s all.”

Gabriel pauses, seemingly concerned. “Did he do something? Something to you?” Cas looks over at him with wide eyes and Gabriel holds his gaze.

“What? No, no, Gabriel, he’s fine. He’s… perfect, actually.” Cas shrugs, looking down at the floor as they walk, now in the hallway.

“Ah.” Gabriel nods knowingly, his voice wise and cool toned, before he broke the ruse, pulling Cas into a headlock and rubbing the top of his head with his knuckles. “So you like Deano!” he laughs, and Cas struggles, pushing against Gabriel and groaning. 

“Gabriel, I _will_ smite your ass.”

“Rude.” Gabriel laughs again, releasing Cas. “So, why would having a big fat crush on little Dean have you down?”

“Gabriel… I-” Cas is cut off by his phone buzzing in his back pocket. While he doesn’t use it often, people outside of The Sanctuary almost always contact him there.

Cas looks at Gabriel, then runs off, answering the phone and shooting out a quick, “One second, let me get to the house, better service there.”

Castiel thanks all things holy for the distraction, but it’s certainly not the one he wanted.

* * *

As Castiel trudges down the stairs after the phone call. The cell is held limply in his hands and his arms are slack at his sides. His feet move on their own, and eventually, he finds himself at Dean’s bedroom. 

He knocks in the door, murmuring a, “Can I come in?”

A couple seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity. Finally, _finally,_ Dean opens the door, and Cas is suddenly quiet, eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry, do you mind? I just, I need a minute. I want to talk to someone- “ to _you_ , he thinks, “I want to talk to someone about this.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cas. Come in.” Dean stands back, holding the door open for Cas, and Cas smiles, stepping through.

He tries to stop, to go through pleasantries, but nothing comes. “Alfie’s been imprisoned.”

Dean’s eyes bug out, and he splutters for a moment, before stepping forward and putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas… Cas, I’m sorry. How’d he get caught?”

“He gets overwhelmed sometimes.” He looks up at Dean from where his eyes had been placed, the floor. “His powers. Auras can be large, or overwhelming, colorful or attacking, and he is prone to sensory overload. It hadn’t happened at his work yet, he had been working in the kitchen, but they made him work the counter to cover for someone, and… he was revealed.”

Dean drops his head, nodding. “I’m… that’s terrible. Can we get him back? What are we doing here? Let’s… we can…” Dean shakes his head, looking back at Cas when he’s run out of words.

“No. Protocol. We can’t, um… we can’t bring him back. If he’s lucky, they haven’t caught onto the fact that he’s helping The Sanctuary, and he’ll get sent to a specialized prison. There, he…” Cas almost choked on his breath, closing his eyes at the horrendous image in his head, “he might not be treated well, but he’ll be treated better.”

Dean looks… heartbroken. When Cas looks up at him, he looks sad. It’s more raw, vulnerable, than Cas has ever seen him.

Cas steps forward and hugs Dean, his arms wrapping around his middle and his eyes closing. Their heads rest on each other’s shoulders, and they stand there. Dean mostly supports Cas, and eventually they break. 

Cas reaches up, very gently placing his hand on the side of Dean’s face.

It hits him, not like a train but more like a wave. It blows over him. This touch, this gentle touch, could kill Dean. In a second, with little to no effort. Hell, if he did so much as let go of his emotions too much, it would. But Dean leans into it, closing his eyes. Trusting.

They stand that way, in complete silence, before Cas pulls away, clearing his throat and putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, um… thank you for letting me in.”

“Of course, Cas. Um, actually, would you mind… staying? I have my laptop, we can play movies, listen to music?”

“Oh.” Cas says, quiet as his eyes return to Dean’s. “Yeah, sure. Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. ‘S my pleasure.” Dean smiles lightly. 

The both of them sit down, settling into Dean’s bed, Dean on Cas’ left.

Dean picks the movie, and Cas, he falls asleep, curled into Dean’s side and at peace for the first time since last night.

* * *

Cas wakes up… however many hours later, and he’s now laying down fully, curled up around Dean. Dean’s awake, staring at the ceiling. When Cas stirs, looking at Dean with blinking, tired eyes, Dean smiles. It’s warm, his lips curling up and creating an expression that both sets Cas on ice and burns him from the inside out. “Morning, Sunshine.”

“What time is it?” Cas asks, craning his head to meet Dean’s eyes from where it had previously rested on his chest. His hand draws little circles into Dean’s cloth covered torso, and he breaks into a grin at the scene.

 _Okay, so having… even when it’s not fully… it’s kind of nice_ , he thinks, and he completely and totally misses Dean’s answer.

“What?”

Dean laughs, and god, Castiel could listen to that sound for the rest of eternity. “Still tired, Cas? It’s eight.”

“PM?” Cas asks, eyes wide. Three hours? He’d completely missed dinner, he still had to go check in on Michael and Lucifer, he-

“AM, Cas.”

“AM?” Cas’ eyes widen farther and he begins to get up, but Dean presses into the middle of Cas’ back, keeping him there for a moment. 

“Wait, Cas, I… I wanted to tell you something.”

Cas sits up, cross legged on the bed next to Dean, and Dean does the same, sitting in front of Cas.

“Cas, I, um, I know we’ve only known each other for a month or so, but I really enjoy… getting to spend time with you and stuff, and I was wondering, well… God, I sound like some stupid teennager, but, I like you. Like, a lot, and… If you’re not into guys, or whatever, that’s cool, but-”

Cas’ brain has, essentially, gone blank. There is nothing running his body. Well, nothing other than that godforsaken urge to kiss Dean. And, well, since that’s the only thing running it, of course it wins out.

Cas practically lunges toward Dean, and within seconds their lips are jammed together, still and awkward at first. Dean’s cut off from whatever he was saying, but he’s still the first to move, his lips gleefully melding with Cas’.

Cas eventually settles into the kiss, his hands clutching the front of Dean’s shirt desperately. Dean leans back, his arms supporting him from behind. Dean kisses him with a passion that Cas easily reciprocates and raises, and the sparks in Cas’ soul light aflame.

The waves wash him under.

The ice freezes him solid.

The pounding in his chest is rapid against his ribcage, so hard he can feel it with just a hand on top of the skin.

Dean is everywhere, and he is everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the first quarter of My Sanctuary. Please, let me know what you thought! Either here or @theselfhatingangelofthursday on tumblr, I would love to hear from you!


	6. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As we begin to explore Dean's point of view, some new perspectives and ideas come to light during the beginning of his and Cas' relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry

Dean paces around his bed, smirking as the cool screen of his phone presses into his cheek. His expression comes out in his tone and he sits on his bed.

“Nothing new to report, really. Castiel… Cas, the plan with him is working. I should have gone into acting, I’m fantastic at improv.”

“I still can’t believe you assigned the man a nickname within ten minutes.” 

“Of course I did.” Dean said, leaning back on his elbows, before continuing with, “ _Benjamin_.”

“Shut up, Winchester.” 

“That’s Officer Winchester to you, Officer Lafitte.”

“Be careful, your magical butt buddies might hear you, Dean.” 

Dean laughs, falling back fully on the bed. He flips to his stomach, playing with the corner of a pillow. “Please don’t speak that into reality.”

“You’re dating the leader of the organization we’re tearing down. I’m actually required by law to fuck with you about it.”

“Benny, you’re a cop you can’t just create laws.”

“I can do what I want. And what’s the report on the rest of the inhabitants?”

Dean’s face goes stoic and he stiffens a bit, as though he were a soldier preparing for battle. “I confirmed, Michael and Lucifer are the brothers from Paradise Works, the higher-ups I mentioned. They’re the main money source for The Sanctuary. I suggest taking them out before anyone else.”

“You mean the ones really creepily named after angels?”

“Benny, there are tons of them. It’s freaky. I’m in hell, but it’s run and inhabited by angels.”

“Ironic, that the place called _The Sanctuary_ , of all things, is really just full of freaks hiding from the law.” 

Dean flips to his back, letting out a sigh. Benny doesn’t bother questioning it, though. Dean is glad, because he doesn’t want to examine his own actions all that closely either. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Anything else?” Benny asks, and Dean nods, before making a face, clearly realizing that no, Benny cannot see him.

“There are a lot of telepaths around and it’s scary.”

“Just avoid them, Dean. The case.”

“Yeah. There’s probably 2,000 people here, and all but maybe 10 have magic. I don’t suggest a raid unless it’s very sudden.”

“What do you suggest?”

“A slow takedown. Get Ca-Castiel out first, it’ll go down in hours. He’s the glue.” Dean picks at his nails, thinking. “Lucifer, Michael next. You already have someone in custody. Name’s Alfie.”

“Oh, him? Auras ‘n shit?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s getting sent to lockup tomorrow.”

Dean nods again. “Well, I guess you’re starting early. And quick.”

“Yep, Cap thinks we’ll have them down in a month or two.”

Dean stiffens again, closing his eyes.

“Dean?” Benny asks after a while, concern lining his tone.

“Yeah, sorry, I had to do something.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, anything else?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Deano, this isn’t enough.”

“I know. I’ll get more. Call me next week, same time.”

“It’s a date… Winchester.”

“In your dreams, Lafitte.” With that, Dean laughs, adding, “Clearly I’m a taken man.” Before hanging up.

* * *

An hour later, Dean walks out of his room, heading for the common room. Generally he goes there before dinner, watches people, gets a feel for his surroundings. He has no doubt Castiel will find him, since technically they’re… dating? 

God, that’s weird as fuck.

Dad would murder him specifically for even suggesting the plan if he had been in the room.

Granted, not one person he said it to agreed with him, other than Benny.

Dean greets people as they pass, his ‘pretty boy’ smile that always seems to work plastered across his face.

He reaches the common room, sitting back and looking around. Benny always did say he had the ‘cop look’. Far too observant, blocked off, seemingly uninterested. It was a skill, certainly, and Dean, well. He’d mastered it.

He watches a young girl playing with building blocks, floating above her head. He hardly swallows a natural scowl, but, well, it is quite the endearing scene.

He watches a boy with a cat, openly holding a conversation. Dean’s eyebrows furrow at that, but they’re out of sight quickly.

A young woman walks with her frien- girlfriend(they’re holding hands, apparently). She has giant horns sprouting out the tops of her head, almost two feet tall, including curves.

He keeps watching, eyes darting from person to person, until a weight presses down on the seat beside him. 

He glances over, and, lo and behold, those electric blue eyes are staring at him. Straight into his soul.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel says, and he’s smiling. A real, genuine smile that, now that Dean’s thinking about it, he hasn’t really seen before.

“Cas.” Dean says, and then smiles back. It’s easier to hold with Cas, but no more real than with the others.

“Are you waiting for dinner?” Cas asks, and he goes quiet for a bit, before tentatively moving closer to Dean, their shoulders touching.

“Yeah. Thirty minutes, right? Thought I’d, ya know. People watch.”

“You mind my joining you?”

Dean, personally, prefers to be alone. But he hadn’t been saying anything aloud, so there was no use in turning someone he was supposed to love away. “Not in the least, Cas.” Dean opens up an arm, and Cas tucks up underneath it, his eyes following Dean’s as they sit in silence.

Eventually, Cas looks up at Dean from his slumped position, and of course Dean returns the gaze. “Yeah?” He asks, mostly uninterested, assuming Cas is just gonna ask him a question.

Cas looks at him for another second, before his lips curve up just a little. He places his hands on Dean’s thighs for leverage, before pushing himself up and kissing him. “How was your day, Dean?” He asks, after pulling away from the chaste kiss.

Oh. 

The first time had been weird. Like, really weird, but he had overlooked it.

This time is simply… well, simple.

It’s sweet, and though it lasts maybe a second or two, a smile leaks into the kiss from Cas’ lips.

“Good. Quiet. I should have stayed with you longer.”

Cas lets out a soft chuckle, one corner of his lips curling into a smirk. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean rubs Cas’ shoulder. “And you? How was your day?” Dean doesn’t… _really_ care, but hey. There’s no reason to not ask, and he’s rewarded(or so Cas thinks, he assumes) with Cas wrapping his arms around Dean’s middle, pressing a kiss into his collarbone. They look like a couple already. Hell, Cas seems to have no inhibitions. Which, is cool and all, for him, but it just means more time like this with Cas.

Cas shrugs. “I did… a lot of work yesterday. There wasn’t much to do today. Which, wow, that’s the first time I’ve said something like that since I was fifteen years old.”

Dean lets out a small huff of laughter, nodding. “That’s good. That you’re taking a break, I mean. ‘S well deserved.”

“Thank you, Dean. Maybe I’ll start doing that more.”

“That’d be nice. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Again, not precisely true, but the sentiment makes Cas smile.

“And the same to you, Dean.” He says, and they fall into silence.

* * *

Dean and Cas sit down at the same table, across from each other. Dean has two plates, and Cas has half of one. Dean eats quickly, while Cas eats at half his speed. Cas’ eyes, generally, are set on Dean.

“What’s up?” Dean asks, mouth full as he looks back up at Cas.

“The sky. Well, the roof. Technically, the ground is up. Many, many things are up.” Cas wears a grin, and he rests his chin on his fist, his elbow set on the table.

Dean kicks Cas’ shin, shaking his head and laughing. “Bastard. You’re staring at me. Why?”

“What can I say? I like looking at you.”

Dean swallows his food, before shooting Cas a smug grin, mocking Cas’ position, his chin rested on his hand. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Well, there are some benefits to this situation, Dean supposes.

Dean looks Cas up and down, before shrugging. “Same to you, I guess.” He says, the tone slightly teasing.

“You guess?” Cas asks, raising his eyebrow and leaning forward.

“I suppose.” Dean agrees, continuing to eat his food, not even giving Cas an ounce of contact, physical or visual.

He hears Cas let out a sharp chuckle, and he can practically hear the other man shaking his head.

They sit in silence for a while, and Dean, despite himself, smiles when their feet curl and play under the table.

* * *

After dinner, they walk back to the common room, before Cas offers to take Dean up to the small house atop the bunker.

“It’s quiet up there. I have a room here, but I’ve got my own stuff up there, so, if you’d like to come up, I think I’m going to clean a bit. You know, if you’d like to keep me company.”

“You know, Cas, if you just wanted some private time away from the kids-“

Cas steps closer, pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips before he can continue. 

“Love, do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”

* * *

Dean lets out a soft laugh as his lips meld with Cas’. Teeth clack occasionally, and every time it’s Cas’ fault. _Overeager_ , Dean thinks. But nevertheless every time it happens, he gently squeezes Cas’ legs with his own, straddles across Cas’ lap. 

And every time he does it, Cas lets out a soft laugh, biting Dean’s lower lip lightly, before returning to the kiss. It lasts a little longer than the last time they’d kissed, but it only stops when Dean has his hands up the back of Cas’ shirt. His fingers hit a dip in the skin, and Cas pulls away, eyes wide.

“Oh, sorry.” Dean murmurs, taking his hands back to himself and placing them on his own thighs.

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cas says gently. “They’re just my scars.”

Dean thinks for a moment. It doesn’t take him long to figure out Cas is referencing his wings. He had been curious about them, after all. If it won’t lose him any points, maybe now’s a good time.

“Your wings, right? They got cut off?”

Cas’ body language immediately shifts, his shoulders and eyes falling. After a moment, his hands move, running up and down Dean’s forearms and he speaks. “Yes. I was eight.”

“Can you…” Dean starts, before leaning in and pressing a comforting kiss to the top of Cas’ head, in hopes of getting him to talk. “Can you tell me about them?”

“What do you wanna know? They were hurting me, they were useless, and they were small and ugly. No point.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of an operation to remove wings.”

Cas’ eyes meet Dean’s with a flaming intensity, and he says, “There was no operation, Dean. Do you see a hospital anywhere down there? I was given way too much Advil for a child, I was held down, and a wire was wrapped around the base of my wings. I passed out, I woke up, they were gone.”

Oh.

Suddenly Dean’s heart pounds and his eyes even burn a little bit at the story. 

He reaches up, cupping Cas’ cheek in his hand. “Cas, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine, Dean. I’m okay.” Cas murmurs, turning his head and kissing the palm of Dean’s hand.

“I know, but…” Dean sighs. 

He was always told that people with magic, with mutations, that they were monsters. 

But the man before him?

He… he doesn’t seem like much of a monster to Dean.

“Dean, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” Cas plasters on a smile, tilting his head up and kissing Dean lightly. This one is empty, out of it, but Dean accepts it. 

“You want me to move?” Dean asks, fully ready to return back to a comfortable distance.

“Not particularly.” Cas answers, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, shifting closer and resting his head on Dean’s chest.

“Alright.” Dean murmurs, and he can’t stop himself from a slightly over-dramatic eye roll as he wraps his arms around Cas’ shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send your hate mail here or in my inbox @theselfhatingangelofthursday on tumblr!


	7. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter! Because I’m bored and y’all deserve it after that last one. Enjoy!

_ Head down. _

_ Do the job. _

Dean introduces himself to seven people a day, at least. He’s determined to meet everyone in The Sanctuary. He even manages to get a hold of Michael, who, yes, is annoying and self righteous as fuck, but also important to their operation. The man has two powers, mind reading and telekinesis, which made Dean particularly excited to leave as soon as possible. 

He meets a woman just a little bit younger than him, named Anna. She has bright red hair, but her wings are black, reaching down to her thighs. Certainly not the largest he’s seen, but fairly large. She has the power of telepathy too, but she tells him she only uses it every once in a while, because it can be tiring.

Which, yeah, he understands.

He meets an older Asian woman, named Linda Tran. He’d seen her in the kitchen, but he really gets to speak to her now. She doesn’t have magic, but she loves her son, Kevin, with a burning passion. She arrived here when he manifested, asking for help with a telepathic son that she didn’t fully know how to raise. She works in and for The Sanctuary, and everyone(with the exception of the shitty people, she says), adores her. And he can see why. This is the first person he’s met without magic, and it’s like a breath of fresh air after spending months in a sewer.

Well…

That’s not quite right.

It hasn’t been all bad.

He meets a deaf woman named Eileen. Luckily she can read lips, and is forgiving of his shitty ASL. He’d learned a bit in school, but it never much stuck. She bends fire. A pyrokinetic, Castiel would say. Or, a demon, if you had asked his father. She seems sweet, though, and Dean enjoys talking to her for the short amount of time he does.

She reminds him of Cas, actually. 

Dean pushes Castiel away from his mind, waving to Eileen when she says she has to go.

He meets a man with fangs named Garth. Garth is, hilariously, a dentist. Unfortunately for Dean, he hasn’t been to the dentist in, looking back, at least five years.

Then again, Dean probably only finds it hilarious because he’s in the midst of passing out.

He has an odd dream, and wakes up to ‘Let’s Misbehave’ stuck in his head.

He meets a man named Crowley who promptly flirts with him. It’s well received, well, it would have been, had Dean not been a taken man. After that, though, it goes fairly well. Crowley has the power of deception, which, fantastic. Dean promptly makes his way out of there. Of course, though, he throws Crowley a wink before fully turning. 

After his absolutely exhausting day, he makes his way to dinner, finding his usual seat and beginning to eat. He has no doubt in his mind that Cas will be there before too long.

* * *

He’s right, of course. Cas joins him fifteen minutes later, smiling. “Hello, Dean. I heard you were talking to the other people around The Sanctuary.” 

Dean lets out a soft chuckle, looking up at Cas. Not only were the words so very  _ Cas _ , so is his expression. Happy to see Dean, sure, but sincerity is also painted around the lines of his smile.

“Yeah. Figured it was time I met someone other than you.” Once again, their feet play against each other under the table, but Dean pulls away quickly.

_ Focus. _

Cas looks slightly confused but doesn’t prod, continuing the conversation. “I suppose. Though I wouldn’t protest more time with you.”

“We always have dinner, movie nights, visits to the house… bedrooms. Locks.” Dean offers with a smirk and a light laugh, winking.

“Of course.” Cas agrees. “But, seriously. How did it go?”

“Meeting everyone? Good, I guess. Tiring. I wish I knew half of what everyone was talking about.” It sounded like an admission, but he definitely knows. He’s baiting, he knows, and it’s a very careful attempt, but if Cas could give him any extra information, it would be beyond helpful.

“Oh, I can help with that. When I finish up,” Cas says, holding up his fork, “I’ll show you to the library. There’s a book you should read.”

“A book?”

“I’ll explain on the way.” Cas says, biting off the food from his fork. He continues eating, and their conversation slows to a halt.

* * *

Cas finishes off his food and stands, followed closely by Dean. Dean’s footsteps fall into sync with Cas’ and Cas looks at him, smiling. Their hands intertwine as they walk, and Cas’ hand is warm. Yes, he’s felt Cas’ skin before, and every time it’s hot, as though he’s burning up from the inside out, but it’s especially noticeable from Dean’s palm.

For whatever reason.

Maybe he’ll ask Cas about that some time.

They walk side by side, hands swinging. Cas wears a smile and Dean wears simply a peaceful expression, watching the people as they pass. Some people give Cas a pat on the shoulder or a smile, perhaps a wave. A couple people even say hi, but no one stops them on their way to the library.

They eventually walk through a large wooden door, one of the first he’s seen down here, and inside is a… well, a fairly small room, given the size of everything else in The Sanctuary. It’s maybe twice the size of the room he sleeps in, perhaps smaller. 

There are six bookshelves, filled. Some of the books rest on beanbags as well, or on a table on the middle of the room. The table has a map on it, and chairs surrounding it. Nobody sits here, and only two other people are in the room, one on a beanbag and one at a small desk in the corner.

“It’s small, I know, but it’s the best I could do with the space. We have to spare most of the rooms for our people, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s cool. Cozy.” Dean wiggles his eyebrows, looking at Cas. “So, this book. What is it?”

“Well, the world, as I’m sure you know, have little to no knowledge on magic, mutations, etcetera.”

“Did you just say etce-“

“Shut up. A while ago, when my mother and father ran the sanctuary, a person lived here who was set on finding all of the history of magical people. Powers and mutations. They knew magic wasn’t taught anywhere, wasn’t well known, and thought if they could document it all, that maybe one day it could be released to the public.” Cas walks away, towards the farthest, dustiest bookshelf. The books are the thickest there, and clearly the oldest. As well as the least touched, most of them coated in dirt and dust. Cas navigates quickly though, easily finding what he had been looking for. He pulls out an old, leather bound book. It’s so thick that Cas uses two hands, setting it on the table with the map on it. 

It’s clearly old, and Cas blows the dust off the top, before lovingly brushing a hand over the top to reveal a basic, burnt in title.

‘The Extensive History Of Magic And Magic-Adjacent People by Gray Faulkner’

“Huh.” Dean murmurs, placing a hand on the book. “Thank you, Cas.”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas smiles, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to Dean’s lips. “Would you like me to stay?”

“Sure.” Dean says, and he really means it.

God, that’s scary.

_ Focus, Dean. _

* * *

Dean’s been a cop for years.

_ Years _ .

He’s been helping them out for longer.

Working on cases as a teenager, even capturing some outlaws for his father.

It was the family business, after all.

Policing magic.

But in his whole life, Dean Winchester has never seen such a… well, such an extensive history on magic.

He learns for the very first time that magic did not come from demons or devil worship, or horrifying mutations, but rather a trait. A recessive one, that can also be a result of mutation, but a trait. 

It’s been around forever.

Greek gods were most likely just people with magic.

The Salem Witch Trials were just against people who had trouble controlling their magic.

Some rumors even stood that Jesus had simply been someone with the power of Life, among other things. The rumors were solid, actually, Dean thought. A halo is a viable mutation, so it stands to reason that perhaps he was someone with powers or a mutation rather than the son of the Catholic god.

Cas’ power.

The power of Life.

“Cas?” Dean asks, looking up from the worn pages in front of him.

“Yes?” 

“Can you tell me about your powers?”

Cas looks up from the book he’s reading across the table from Dean. He tilts his head, considering for a moment, before nodding. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, I mean, how do they work? What do they do?”

“How do they work? Well, I have… I have something called grace. It’s hard to explain, but essentially it’s like a deep well of power. Like… light, and fire, deep inside and woven into my soul. Not everyone who has powers has it, otherwise I’m sure you’d know.” Cas offers with a smile and  _ fuck _ Dean forgot he was pretending to have powers. Dean recovers quickly and he nods, allowing Cas to continue. 

“Everyone with the powers of Life and/or Death has grace, though. I have both, which is common. If you have one, you’re likely to have the other. But since I have both, I have a sort of… double dose of grace. Does that make sense?”

Dean nods again, leaning forward and pushing the book gently to the side.

“Here…” Cas holds out his hand, palm up, and he closes his eyes.

Dean is confused for a second, even going so far as to tilt his head like Cas. He scoots his chair in, and he genuinely gasps when he sees a swirling white light spilling upward out of Cas’ hand. Cas is smiling, and he opens his eyes, glancing at his hand. The light is tinted blue, and it shines upwards out of Cas’ hand. 

“You have any wounds or open skin? Aches?” Cas asks, and Dean almost shakes his head, both slightly terrified and pretty sure he doesn’t, before realizing two things.

He got a paper cut a couple minutes back.

And Cas would never hurt him.

Dean nods, holding out his hand and showing Cas the paper cut, just starting to scab up. 

Cas nods, turning his hand downward and holding it over Dean’s, the light shining over Dean’s hand, bathing it in the white-blue light.

Dean shivers, icy fire running up his spine before he watches the skin slowly pull back together, until nothing is left but nearly dried blood. The skin is completely whole again, and the blood wipes away with a swipe of Cas’ fingers. 

“There.” Cas says gently, and his fingers intertwine with Dean’s. “Of course, that’s just the better aspect of my powers, but nowadays it’s the one I use the most.”

“And… the other ‘aspect’?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, it’s certainly not pleasant. Easier, but… hard. The power of Death is… well, for lack of a better word, fatal. Anything from a plant to a whale could die under the slightest touch of my hand.”

And yep, the fear’s back.

But Dean holds his composure, nodding. “It’s okay, if you don’t want to talk about it I understand.”

“I don’t mind.” Cas reassures him, bringing Dean’s hand up to his lips and kissing it before letting it go, marking and closing his book. “I manifested very young. I was nine. Technically it could have been younger, but for a nine year old to accidentally kill a cat he was petting was… traumatizing to say the least.” Cas shrugs, looking off into a corner. “My father believed it was grief. For my wings. As well as my body’s protection system. To keep it from happening again.”

Dean’s shoulders sink a little, and he does nothing but nod again. Strangely, he wants to do something. Help.

All he does, though, is gently knock his foot against Cas’.

Cas gently places his foot atop Dean’s, and their feet begin to tussle back and forth as Cas continues.

“My powers are tied to my emotions. So when my father locked me up it wasn’t very helpful. I hit some bad patches there, certainly. My healing didn’t manifest for, god, years. I was thirteen.” Cas tells Dean, his foot kicking up against the sole of Dean’s shoe. “There’s a…” Cas chuckles lightly, “a dungeon underneath The Sanctuary. Soundproof, stocked with weapons and chains-“

“Cas, if this is an invitation, I-“

Cas cuts him off with nothing but a look this time, a raised eyebrow and withering eyes that make Dean hold his hands up in defense.

“Whenever my powers got out of control, I was locked down there. Chained up. So I’m not particularly fond of the place.” With that, Cas playfully kicks Dean’s shin, but it does sting in a way that makes Dean think it wasn’t fully playful. “That power runs off my grace too. But instead of using the light to heal, it… uses the fire to burn.” His eyes fall from Dean’s as he stares at the table. “And fire, more than anything, loves to burn.”

Dean reaches across the table, fully on instinct. Just as he lets Cas’ foot pin his down, he places his hand on top of Cas’.

_ Fuck _ .

He’s screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then. Some internal Dean for you there. How fun. Anyways, talk to me!! Here, or @theselfhatingangelofthursday on tumblr! (Yup I’m gonna say it every time)


	8. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets a new girl in The Sanctuary, and discovers a new power he hadn't heard of before that forces him to confront some things he isn't so fond of.

When Cas is busy, Dean eats alone.

It’s uncommon, but it happens. Generally, Cas makes time for Dean. Shifts his schedule to spend as much time with Dean as possible.

It’s sweet, really.

But Cas is doing visits to the inhabitants of The Sanctuary, so Dean eats alone.

He’s watching the people in the cafeteria carefully as he bites into a burger. He’d practically picked Linda up and swung her around when he found out she and Kevin were making burgers.

He’d have done the same to Kevin, but.

Mind reader, and all.

_ Telepath _ , he corrects himself.

_ Mind reader, _ he corrects himself again, shaking his head and staring at the burger in his hands.

He hears footsteps, and he looks up. 

A thin woman in a black dress walks up to him, before taking a seat.

“Hello.” She says, in that same… otherworldly tone that Cas has.

Dean lets out a chuckle, shifting in his seat and leaning forward. “Hiya.” He wears a charming expression, but he avoids a flirtatious one. Seeing as everyone knows about him and Cas, it’d be sorta… risky and dangerous.

Not to mention he doesn’t care much.

She smiles, biting her lip and leaning forward.

Yeah, okay, he’s seen this one before. 

“I’m Amara. Nice to meet you.” She says, holding out her hand for a handshake. 

“Dean. Pleasure’s mine.” He offers a similar smile, shaking her hand.

It tingles a little, but nothing too bad. Like her whole palm shocked him, yet, painlessly. 

It feels like Cas’ grace, but cold.

“You seem awfully pleased with your food. First time I’ve seen you alone, though.”

Oh. 

Maybe she doesn’t care.

Well she never cared, but.

“Oh, yeah, well, Cas is out today.”

“Hm. More time for us, then? I don’t mind keeping you company.”

Whiplash.

“I’m sure you don’t, sweetheart.” Dean says, taking a bite from his burger.

His burger that he happened to be a little more interested in anyways. 

He looks up at her, and her eyebrows are furrowed deeply and she looks genuinely confused.

He offers her a smile. “Fries?” He asks, pushing his plate forward.

Her face melts into a smile and she stares at him for a moment before nodding, taking a fry.

Oh look at that, she’s trying to eat it seductively too. 

Dean does nothing but chuckle lightly, taking another bite of his burger. Eventually he finishes it off and he sits there, trading the occasional word with Amara as they both eat his fries.

Before long, Cas walks over, sitting beside Dean.

He kisses Dean on the temple, before pulling back and smiling. “Hello, Dean. Socializ-“ Cas looks at Amara, and his eyebrows raise.

Strangely, at the same time, her eyes widen and her cheeks flush.

“Hello, Amara.” Cas says, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“Castiel! Hello.” Amara waves, and her composure is stiff, her smile the same.

“What are you two talking about?” Cas asks, glancing at Dean.

Okay, maybe things are a little stiff between these two. Maybe that was something Dean should have known.

“Fries.” Dean chuckles lightly, holding up the one that he had been about to eat when Cas sat down. 

“Hm.” Cas murmurs, reaching over and grabbing the fry out of Dean’s hand, smiling as he takes a bite of it. “Thank you.”

“I wasn-“ 

“I’m gonna go now, got some… things to do.” Amara stands, offering the two of them a smile.

Dean laughs lightly, but he nods, waving.

When Amara is gone, Dean leans in and kisses Cas, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

It is, but god, it’s also one of the hardest.

“Thanks for the save.” He says, smirking ever so slightly.

Cas stares at him for a moment, before sucking in a breath and nodding. “Um, yeah, of course.”

“Something wrong?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised. He’s shifted in his seat, fully facing Cas now. 

“Can we go somewhere more… private?” Cas offers a slight smile, but the expression is nervous, so Dean opts out of the tease that’s set on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, sure, Cas.”

-

They make their way to Dean’s room, and they sit down together, cross legged on the bed. 

Cas struggles for words, so Dean places his hands on Cas’ thighs, leaning forward and kissing him gently. “Cas, you okay, what’s wrong?”

“Amara’s power, I think she tried to use it on you.”

Dean’s eyebrows raise, and he thinks back. Back to the cold chills that ran up into his arm and along his vertebrae. He nods. “Yeah, now that I think about it… yeah.”

“Amara has the power of Love. It’s much like the original legend of Cupid. She… touches someone, and they fall in love with the first person they see. The on-“

“Well,” Dean laughs softly, “it must be malfunctioning, because I don’t feel a thing for her.”

“ _ The only time it doesn’t work, Dean _ ,” Cas emphasizes, eyebrows raised, before returning to his normal speech with, “is when the target is already in love.”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

Dean gulps, and then, well. 

The unexpected thing happens.

He blacks out.

He can’t fully see and his brain is on overdrive, running at a speed he can’t even begin to process.

His father’s voice.

Benny’s voice.

Sam’s voice.

Hell, Cas’ voice.

And worst of them all, his own.

Dean comes back to life, minutes of screaming later, and Cas is very gently cupping his face, speaking words of comfort and support. 

“Dean, it’s okay, I understand, I just need you to- you’re back. Okay. Hey, look at me. It’s alright.” He says, and Dean, well.

Now he understands why he can’t help but return Cas’ gentle smile.

He nearly blacks out again.

It’s just too much.

“I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean finally utters, struggling to form the words.

And he’s never meant the words more. 

Never.

“It’s okay, Dean. Really. You don’t have to say anything at all. Just… I want you to know, that if or whenever you want to talk about it, that…” Cas bites his lip, thinking for a moment. “That had the same power been used on me, it wouldn’t have worked either.”

Dean sucks in a long breath, before nodding. “I… thank you, Cas.”

“Of course.” His thumb brushes over Dean’s cheekbone, before he leans forward, kissing him on the forehead. “Do you want me to stay? Or leave?”

Dean desperately needs to think about this.

Needs to pound the thoughts out of his head.

Needs to call off the mission.

Needs to tell Benny to let him go home.

He needs to yell at himself, hate himself for this.

But god, he so  _ desperately  _ needs Cas.

“Stay.” He whispers, his eyes meeting Cas’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun, wasn't it? Talk to me here or @theselfhatingangelofthurday on tumblr! I'd love to hear from you, and I hope you enjoyed <3


	9. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean struggles with newly uncovered feelings, and the weight of the world really begins to put the tension on his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo get ready for one of my favorites! (Most of my favorites are in the second half.) Enjoy!

Dean wakes to a warm hand pressing gently into his chest and a kiss into his shoulder. He sucks in a long breath, his lips curling up into a light smile. He blinks his eyes open, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning his head, making contact with stunning blue eyes. 

Cas’ hair is even more ruffled than usual from sleep, and Dean lets out a laugh, bringing his hand up and fixing it, before ruffling it more.

“Good morning.” Cas whispers, scooting upwards in the bed a bit, swinging a leg over Dean’s just to get closer as he kisses him. 

“I’d say so.” Dean mumbles the tease against Cas’ lips, wrapping his arms around the small of Cas’ back. 

“I’d have let you sleep, but I have to leave.” Cas pushes himself up to straddle Dean’s waist, kissing him once more, before he climbs out of bed, starting to get ready for the day.

Well, with what limited resources he has in Dean’s room.

Dean props himself up on an elbow, watching Cas with a light smirk. “Why don’t you stay? You deserve a day off.”

“I suppose, but they deserve a leader, don’t you think?” Cas asks, eyebrow raised as he pulls a shirt on.

“I suppose.” Dean mocks in a deep tone, his self-satisfied smirk growing.

“Love, you can’t pull off my voice.”

Dean raises his eyebrows, sitting up. “No?”

“No.” Cas smiles sweetly, walking over and sitting down beside Dean. He presses one last kiss to Dean’s lips, before standing up. “If you’re still here in an hour, I’ll bring you breakfast.”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas smiles, before walking out of Dean’s room. He very clearly gives the hallway a once over before beginning his own special “walk of shame,” which makes Dean fall back down onto his back and laugh.

The laugh slows.

His smile fades and his eyes darken.

Oh no.

This can’t be happening. 

Dean stands up, putting on pants and a shirt, and he promptly begins to pace back and forth in front of his bed.

Over and over, like a mantra.

_ This can’t be happening. _

_ This can’t be happening. _

_ This cannot be happening. _

_ This. Cannot. Be. Happening.  _

This time the voices come slow. Tantalizing, mocking, yelling, screaming.

His father’s voice.

_ A monster, Dean. _

_ He’s a monster. _

_ A demon. _

Benny’s voice.

_ Dean, focus on the job. _

_ They’re breaking the law. _

_ They need to be stopped. _

Sam’s voice.

_ Dean, take care of yourself. _

_ Dean, you went into the family business for a reason, right? _

_ Why can’t you control yourself? _

His own. His own is the loudest of all, screaming directly into his ear.

But right on the other side, screaming right back, is Cas.

Cas.

Telling him that all he needs to do is tell the truth.

That he can be forgiven.

Telling him that magical people aren’t that bad.

But he’s not only yelling at Dean’s self deprecating side, he’s yelling at Dean himself, too.

Between affirmations, it’s  _ how could you do this? _

It’s,  _ I never want to see you again. _

It’s,  _ I hate you. _

And those? Those are the scariest voices of all.

* * *

After thirty minutes, Dean ends up on his bed, head in his hands. If you asked how he got there, he couldn’t quite tell you, but his head is spinning too much, so quickly, that he’s growing dizzy.

_ I love him _ , Dean thinks, and that’s the new mantra, running around in his head.

_ I love him. _

_ I love him. _

_ I love him.  _

And then, little details come back, and something joins the mantra.

_ I love him. _

_ He loves me. _

_ I love him. _

_ He loves me. _

Over and over, in circles. Like a broken record.

Slowly, they fade, and his mind goes quiet for the first time since he woke up. 

He feels the moment of peace, and then it’s over.

Dean remembers everything. 

He’s a cop.

He’s here to arrest Cas and his family.

To shut down their home and their protection.

An ache grows in Dean’s chest, and a ball drops in his stomach.

He squeezes his eyes shut and drops back onto the bed, feeling a phantom ache in his back even after only standing for thirty minutes.

_ Tension _ , he thinks, and it’s the last thought before he forces his mind into a floating darkness.

* * *

“Dean?” Cas’ gruff voice rings through the door, and Dean opens his eyes, nearly sitting up and standing just at the sound of Cas’ voice. 

“Yeah, Cas- I mean, come in.” Dean sits up, sucking in one long breath in preparation.

Just as he begins to let it out, Cas walks in. He’s dressed in what he had left in, an AC/DC shirt of Dean’s and a pair of jeans, but he looks generally nicer. More put together. 

Then again, Dean likes him just as much otherwise.

“Hiya, handsome.” Dean grins, leaning towards Cas and holding himself up with his hands.

Cas laughs, walking over to Dean and pressing a kiss to his nose as he sets a plate of food in front of him. “I promised Charlie I’d visit with her today, so I can’t stay, but you’re welcome to join us after fifteen minutes or so.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Charlie and I generally discuss things around The Sanctuary first thing. I can’t imagine you’d be that interested.”

“Nah.” Dean says, instinctively, before he realizes that yes, he absolutely should go.

Well… too late to say so now.

“I thought so. Eat your food, Dean.” Cas smiles, sitting in front of Dean and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

Dean drinks it in anyways, savoring it.

He never knows when it’ll be his last, after all.

No reason to take it for advantage.

“Okay.” He says, and his voice sounds broken, even to his own ears.

Cas catches on, of course.

His head tilts to the side and his hand comes up, cupping Dean’s cheek. “Are you okay? You can come with me if you want, it’s not that I don’t want you there, I just assumed you didn’t want to come.”

“I’m alright, Cas.” Dean assured him through a sad smile. “Promise. I’m just happy.”

“Okay.” Cas says, running a hand quickly through Dean’s hair. “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay.” Dean says, but he makes no move to go for his food.

With that, Cas scoffs, spearing a piece of egg with Dean’s fork and feeding it to him.

Dean refuses at first, tilting up his head in a faux defiance, but his lips are curved into a smile. 

Cas raises his eyebrows and Dean sighs, dropping his head and biting the egg off the fork.

“Thank you.” He flips the fork, handing it to Dean, before standing up again. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

* * *

Thirty minutes after Cas leaves, Dean makes his way out of the room, fully dressed and actually ready for the day.

He’s proud of himself, actually.

It doesn’t even look like he had a panic attack when he woke up.

He says hello to the people in the hallway. He  _ says hello _ to them. With a smile and a wave.

Things have changed so much. In just a few months, Dean has gone from nothing but pure disgust for these people to grinning and saying hello to them. From feeling hatred for their magic to clapping at the little magic shows the children put on.

Yes, they cheat.

Yes, it’s cute.

No, he would never admit either of those things out loud.

He walks into the common room and spots Cas immediately, sitting with Charlie on the same couch they always do. 

Now he knows why, of course. Cas gets to be so warm because of his grace, he simply… prefers the cold.

Dean walks over, sitting next to Cas and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Heya.” He greets. 

Charlie offers a wave and a smile. Dean’s glad she likes him now, even if it’s only a little.

The first couple months were rough. She’d give him a side eye or simply ignore him. But now she always smiles and talks to him.

He was terrified at first. The empaths, the telepaths. But now he simply stays away from the telepaths and the empaths get along with him just fine.

Cas glances at Dean and asks if he enjoyed his breakfast.

“Yeah, I did.” Dean smiles, and he presses a kiss to Cas’ temple. He sees a furrow in Charlie’s brow, but she says nothing. 

Instead she goes into whatever she had been talking about, something about melee and rolling, and Dean zones out as the excited conversation continues.

Slowly Charlie starts to wind down and her eyes flicker to Dean, but she still doesn’t say anything. She still speaks directly to Cas, and she’s still smiling.

He knows what she’s feeling. 

His guilt.

Nevertheless, he just shifts closer to Cas, throwing on a smile and trying to listen.

A discussion about some sort of fight in DND(Dean thinks they’re total nerds the whole time, but it’s sort of endearing) is interrupted by Dean’s phone buzzing.

He almost reaches to turn it off, before realizing it’s not a message. It’s a call.

He grabs the phone, knowing that no cop would call him on this one. Only friends and,

“Sammy.” He murmurs under his breath.

He glances at Cas, whose eyebrows are raised high into the middle of his forehead. 

“Go, go- or, come on.” Cas stands, and he pulls Dean to his feet.

The two of them run up the stairs, and through to the hallway. Here, Dean has decent service, and can hear Sam when he answers the phone.

Dean’s happy “Sammy!” is cut off into nothing but “Sa-” when he hears Sam speak.

“Dean, I- I need your help. I was… I was with Jess, my, my girlfriend, and I got mad, and-“ Sam’s voice is cut off by a sob, and Dean hears the background of the call. Sirens. Rushing water.

“Sammy, Sammy, hey, talk to me, what happened?”

“There was fire everywhere. Dean, Jess is dead. I killed her.” Sam whispers, and Dean’s stomach drops. His knees almost buckle and his eyes are squeezed close. 

He shakes his head, but he chokes something out of his throat. “Are you outside of your dorm? Newman?”

A silence falls over the line from Sam, before he says, “Uh- Yeah. Dean, I’m sorry, I-“

“Sammy, shut up. I’ll be there in an hour.” It’s unrealistic time, it’ll be almost impossible to make, but Dean would rather risk running into a street lamp at 130 than leave his baby brother alone.

Dean hangs up the phone and looks at Cas, who has concern dripping from every inch of his being. 

“Sammy, I think… It’s bad. It’s really bad. He, um… how did Eileen manifest?” He says quickly.

Understanding flashes behind Cas’ concerned blue eyes, and he looks remorseful, almost grieving. “She… her parents died, and when she found out, she manifested. Almost killed three cops. She only got out of there because they were dealing with the fire while she was immune. Is your brother okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve… I’ve gotta go. He… his girlfriend is dead. Fire. I think he-“

“Dean, I understand. Go.”

* * *

Dean makes it to Newman University in good time, one and a half hours. He gunned it the whole way, in the dark. He called Sam halfway there to tell him, so when Dean pulls up he knows Sam won’t be angry. 

Well, with Dean anyways.

When he gets there, Sam is sitting, hunched up on a sidewalk. His whole body shakes and his eyes are closed, and for such a giant, he looks like nothing but a little kid. Dean’s little baby brother, curled up in a ball in the middle of the night.

“Hey, hey, Sammy,” Dean says as he steps out of Baby, his ‘67 Chevy Impala, but he doesn’t even so much as bother to close the door of his treasured car as he rushes to his brother’s side.

Sam’s head raises and he looks at Dean. 

His eyes are guilty, and his eyebrows are turned up in the middle. 

Sam, he looks…

Sammy looks broken.

“Dean, I-”

“Sammy, c’mon, get in the car.” Dean says, resting a hand on Sam’s shoulder, before offering a hand.

Sam’s head drops and he nods, eyes closed. “I know.” He mumbles, ignoring Dean’s hand and pushing himself up.

The two of them sit in Baby and Dean starts her up, the ride drowning in pure silence. Dean doesn’t even turn on the radio or pop in a tape, which is, well. Less than unusual.

“Dean…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Sammy.” Dean says, looking over at his brother. 

Sam looks at Dean, before sighing and returning to his silence. After watching him for a minute, Dean realizes he’s been staring at his hands. 

“What’s up with your hands? Get burnt or something?”

“No, Dean, they burned.” Sam says, and Dean can feel the withering glare on him through the goosebumps up the back of his own neck.

Dean just nods, and everything, it’s all confirmed.

He knew it when he got the call, he did, but…

This is bad.

This is so bad.

* * *

Inside of Baby, nothing is heard but the purr of her engine and the occasional passing car. It’s 5:30 now, and Dean’s eyes hurt and his body aches, but his knuckles are still white on the steering wheel. 

* * *

At 7 they pull up to the small house Dean now knows to be Cas’. Sam gulps at first, his eyes closed, before he opens them and audibly sucks in a breath.

“Dean, where are we?”

“Sammy, I’m going to take you somewhere, and they’re going to protect you, okay?”

“Dean…”

“I’m undercover here, so watch your mouth. But they’ll take care of you. Cas, Eileen, everyone else, they can help you control it.”

“Dean, why didn’t you take me to the station?”

Dean freezes. His mind is blank of possible answers.

Well, not blank.

But the one that’s blinking on a neon sign in the back of his head is the one he will never say to another human being.

It’s the one he’s not even going to dare say to himself.

“You deserve a chance. Come on.” Dean says, opening his door and stepping out of the car.

Sam gives him a skeptic look and even dares to open his mouth again, but Dean cuts him off with a quick, “shut up, follow me.”

* * *

As Dean enters the house, he looks around. Because how could he not?

The first time he stepped in, he was filled with nerves, and hatred for the man before him.

Now…

Now this place feels like home.

And he’s in love with the man who lives here.

Oh, how things have changed.

He glanced at Sam, whose eyes are still red and face still covered in ash, save for the tear tracks down his face.

He really does look like shit.

“Okay, I’m gonna make a call, then I’m gonna take you down.”

“Dean, where are we?”

“It’s called The Sanctuary. It’s… it’s a safe space, protection for… people like you.” Dean says, and he holds eye contact with Sam for the minute of silence in the room.

It feels like hours.

Sam simply nods at the end, and Dean turns away to make his call.

He calls Cas.

“Cas, my brother is here, I was right, I think… he needs to stay here.”

“Alright, Dean. I’ll meet you at the main door. You can get through the trapdoor, I unlocked it for you.”

“Okay.” He pauses, and neither of them hang up. “Thank you, Cas.”

“Of course, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear from you! (Especially on this one, hm?) Comment here, or talk to me @theselfhatingangelofthursday on tumblr!


	10. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets introduced to the inhabitants of the Sanctuary, but Dean feels a sore, heavy weight on his chest as Sam learns more and more about the place Dean's been living in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! Chapter 10! Half of it is gone!   
> Oh, yeah, something else?   
> We're updating on Saturdays now! So, Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.   
> Hope you like it! <3

Dean walks easily through the first hallway, the first part of The Sanctuary he ever saw. At first it was nerve wracking, and now it’s familiar and warm. He walks up to the door, and he pauses.

He needs to tell Sam.

“Sammy, I know you’re not…”  _ in the right state of mind _ , “But I need you to know… you can’t tell anyone what I am. I’m your brother, you left a few years ago, and we don’t catch up much. I’m here undercover. They don’t… they don’t know who I am.”

“They don’t know you’re a cop trying to take them down.”

“Yeah.” He says quietly, licking his lips. “Just, not too much detail about me.”

“Dean, this-“

“Sam, I know. Just trust me.” And with that, Dean knocks on the hard door, the sound reverberating throughout the concrete hallway.

Cas opens the door a minute later, a gentle smile on his face. His blue eyes shine and his expression is coated in pure kindness and understanding.

“Sam.” He says, very gentle as he reaches his hand forward.

Sam stares at it, as though in shock (maybe he is), before nodding slightly, letting out a breath and shaking Cas’ hand. It looks like he genuinely has to force himself into the action.

Cas looks even more understanding now, if that’s even possible, and Dean wonders what quiet, psychic conversation they’re having.

While he wants to be in on it, he has a feeling that he very much does  _ not _ want in on it.

Cas settles one hand over Sam’s in a gentle solidarity, before letting it go. 

“Would you like to meet the others? I believe Dean told me you’re a pyrokinetic, so I can introduce you to one of our more powerful ones. She can help you.”

Dean doesn’t miss Sam’s wince at ‘pyrokinetic,’ but Sam recovers quickly with a nod.

Dean knows what’s running through Sam’s head.

_ Demons. _

_ Fire throwers. _

_ Monsters. _

_ Monsters. _

_ Monsters. _

Their father’s voice rings through Dean’s head to this day, and he’s sure it does the same to Sam.

They step onto the metal platform before the stairs, and Sam looks out onto the common room, and despite the fact that Sam appears broken, one piece of him may have just fallen into place.

He looks, for the first time Dean’s seen today, hopeful.

He actually hears Sam suck in a breath, and it makes Dean smile. He looks out on the crowd himself, and it looks similar to what he saw his first day, but with much more pitying looks.

Ah, so Cas told them circumstances, too.

They make their way down the stairs, sans-announcement, and Cas sort of keeps people out of Sam’s way as they walk.

Cas pulls out his phone at one point and types something out, but he quickly puts it away. 

“Would you like to sit down?” He asks Sam, and Sam readjusts his footing, glancing down at his feet. 

“Yeah, sure.” He offers Cas a weak smile, and Cas nods. 

The three of them sit down, with Dean in the middle of Sam and Cas.

Dean glances at Cas, and he moves his hand to his thigh, squeezing it as he mouths, ‘Thank you.’

Cas smiles and nods, placing his hand over Dean’s.

Eventually Eileen walks over, and Dean greets her with a wave. She grins and waves back, before turning to Cas. 

The two sign some things back and forth, and Eileen nods at the end. 

Dean looks at Sam, and notices that he’s watching the two of them intently. 

“You know sign?”

“Yes, Dean, I know ASL.” Sam says, and his tone is actually normal for a moment, before it goes quiet again in a mumble. “Everyone should.”

Dean nods, before glancing back at Eileen. She walks over to Sam, standing in front of him. Dean recognizes a few of the signs. Her name, a general introduction, and… fire.

And he watches how Sam’s shoulders slump. Once again, the mammoth of a man shrinks in on himself, and he even looks smaller than Dean.

Sam signs back, though, introducing himself as well and appearing to repeat the fire sign, though hesitantly. 

A conversation ensues, one that Dean can’t fully understand, so he turns to Cas.

“So, Cas, what’s been going on here while I was gone?”

“Nothing much. Gabriel left, he’s gonna take his wings for a test run. Good food on the menu. Speaking of, you should eat before they pack it away.”

“Oh, no, I grabbed something on the way back. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay.” Cas smiles and nods. “I’m glad your brother is okay.” He says in a soft, gentle tone, glancing at Sam. 

“Define okay.” Dean mutters. “But yeah, me too.”

* * *

The four of them sit there, before they go off, on a tour similar to Dean’s own when he arrived. Cas seems to rush it a bit, though. His claim to Dean is that he’s sure Sam wants some time alone, and seeing how Sam jumps into the possibility of his own (fire-proofed) room, he’s right.

When they start heading to Sam’s new room, Eileen says something very quick to Sam, her smile gentle, before walking away.

Sam gets into his newly assigned bedroom, and Dean’s question of, “Do you want us to go?” Is met with nothing but a nod.

Dean and Cas respect this, of course, and they leave Sam alone to his devices. 

“Thank you again, Cas.” Dean says, looking at Cas with a grateful smile. “This means a lot.”

“Dean,” Cas says gently, taking Dean’s hand and squeezing, “it’s what I do. It’s my job, it’s what I was raised in. And Dean, he’s your brother.” He looks up from their joined hands and meets Dean’s gaze. “Of course I want to help.”

“Thank you, still.”

“Of course.” Cas nods. “Your room? We can watch a movie, if you want. Wind down. I know it’s been a stressful day- or, night for you.”

_ God, _ he doesn’t deserve Cas, does he?

Not at all.

His mind whirs with this fact, and he only realizes he’s been silent too long when he feels a pressure around his hand again. 

Cas is squeezing his hand and tilting his head. “Dean? Hey, are you okay? You can go alone, I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine. No worries.” Dean smiles, stopping his steps and leaning in, gently pressing his lips to Cas’.

“Alright.”

“A movie sounds good.” Dean says, staring off and forward now. “Your pick?”

“Okay, Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asks, letting out a soft chuckle. “You never let me pick.”

Dean laughs softly. “Nothing’s wrong, Cas. I…”

Dean lets out a long breath, through rounded lips. “Cas, I…” he glances around, and spots his room.

He pulls Cas inside, and he pulls in another long breath, before sighing. “Okay, Cas, I’m just gonna...”

“Dean, hey, what’s wrong? Calm down, you’ve got this.” Cas rubs his hand up and down Dean’s forearm, and Dean very gently removes Cas’ hand from him. He steps back away, and his body is only about a foot away from the wall. 

“Cas, I- Castiel, I need to tell you something.”

Cas furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. His face, again, is dripping in concern. “Dean, you’re scaring me.”

“Cas, I’m a cop!” Dean blurts out, and he closes his eyes. 

Seconds. 

Minutes.

Hours.

Dean can’t tell how long it’s been, but when he opens his eyes, all he sees is a bright flash of white, and all he feels is a warm hand to his forehead.

Not warm.

Hot.

Burning him to his core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, hate mail goes to @theselfhatingangelofthursday of tumblr, or right here!


	11. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tells Cas some surprising and shocking information, and Cas, well... Cas reacts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am... so sorry about last update. Hopefully this makes up for it!

Cas blacks out. He hears what Dean says, and it’s… the last thing he hears.

What feels like millennia of torture later, his eyes clear up. He looks at Dean, backed against the concrete wall. Cas’ own palms are pressed into Dean’s skin, one over his forehead, palm pressed flat, and one held over his lips.

He can feel his grace, his power flowing through his palms, and he quickly jumps back.

He was going to kill Dean. 

He gains control over himself, quickly, and he closes his eyes. Dean is silent, and Cas is left alone in his mind, even if just for a moment.

_ A cop? _

_ How dare he? _

_ What’s wrong with him? _

_ Why is he here? _

_ Is he undercover? _

_ Was any of this real? _

_ Was any of it real? _

_ How can you know, really, what’s real? _

“Dean-“ he chokes out, opening his eyes.

“Cas, I know, I-“

“No, Dean, you don’t.” He says, and his voice is frigid and sharp, like ice. He takes the step back toward Dean, their chests nearly touching. “Dean, what the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you?” He yells, and he’s sure he’s practically spitting in Dean’s face, but he doesn’t care. Not even a little bit.

Dean looks as though he’s been whipped. His chest deflates, and his eyebrows turn up in the middle.

“No. No, Dean, you can’t do that.” Cas grabs Dean by the collar, slamming him back into the concrete wall. “Dean, I don’t accept that.  _ None of it. _ I let you into my home. I trusted you. And now, you’re telling me that all that, all of this, it was all bullshit? No, Dean.” His fingers grip into the rough fabric, and if he left Dean’s gaze for even a moment, he’d see that his knuckles are a bright white. He doesn’t need to look, though. He can feel it in the ache of his hands. His blood boils and simmers and steams under his skin, urging him to release it. “Dean, you’re lucky you’re  _ alive _ . I could kill you in a second.” It’s not a threat. With all his being, he wants to. But he could never. He could never hurt Dean.

“Cas, I know.” Dean forces out, his voice shaky and unsure.

“Dean, can’t you hear me? You can’t  _ possibly  _ understand. Dean, how- how  _ could you _ ?” Cas is breaking, he knows, and his knees threaten to buckle underneath him. He lets go of Dean’s jacket, but not without pushing him back first. 

“Dean, you disgust me.” He spits, but the words taste like bile, and he almost gags on them. 

He can’t lie.

“Cas, I’m so sorry, I… I really do, I- I l-“ 

“No. Dean, no. Absolutely not.” He steps forward again, a finger raised. “I don’t want to hear it. You can’t just… you can’t just say something like… like that. No.”

Dean sucks in a breath, and he stares at Cas for a minute, and Cas’ knees are buckling again. He almost falls, but he pushes Dean’s hands away when they move to help. 

“Dean, I want you out. I- go. No, come on.” He swears he’s blacked out again, as he’s genuinely got Dean by the ear.

Dean winces, but only slightly, as Cas drags him out of the room. He hasn’t looked at Dean, but his hand does move to the man’s arm as he drags him. It’s more effective, but less humiliating.

The walk is silent, and Cas’ body is still firm and tense. He can feel every shift in Dean’s muscles, every movement of the stranger in his hand. His hands are squeezing Dean’s arm in a way that may leave bruises, and he can’t find it in himself to care.

“Go.” He growls when they reach the door, releasing Dean and pushing him away. Every inch of his body yearns for Dean, cries out in anticipation of his absence. It makes him want to break down and cry. Just give in. Allow Dean to stay. But he can’t. “Dean, I… I wish things were different.” He says, and his harsh, cold tone breaks for just a moment to let his love shine through. It’s the last time it’ll happen, after all, so Cas allows it. But soon he buries it.

The love, the warmth, he puts it behind his wall, and he locks up that wall until he’s certain, absolutely certain, that it won’t come back.

“But Dean, so help me God, if you come back with so much as one cop, if I see you again and you’re in any way associated with them,” Cas steps forward, poking a finger into Dean’s chest, “I won’t show mercy, to neither you, nor your friends.”

Dean sucks in a single shaky breath, before nodding. “I- Yeah. Cas, I’m, I’m so sorry, I-” 

“Go.” Cas says again, just a little too loud. He hears the word, sharp and cold, echoed right back at him as Dean turns, opens the door, and leaves.

The slam of the main door and then the fainter one of the trapdoor, they ring in his ears with a sickening reverb. 

He closes his eyes, and he winces every time it plays, over and over and over again. It makes him squeeze his eyes tighter and suck in a breath, but it only catches in his throat. 

He pushes out the oxygen and tries again. He can feel his lungs shaking and he pulls the breath in, but it doesn’t catch. 

He opens his eyes, and the light of the room blinds him, colors flashing in front of his eyes. Even after the blindness fades away, he can’t really see.

He steps down the stairs, legs shaking as he takes each step. With every stair he grows quicker, tripping occasionally but never falling. He feels every footfall deep in his bones, but at the same time, he’s simply floating. His body is moving for him, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to.

He gets down the steps and he walks, each foot quick after the other, toward the bedrooms. On the way, Claire walks up to him.

She looks like she’s got a burning headache and like she’s gonna faint any second now.

“Hey, Dad, are you okay? Well- I mean, What’s wrong?” She asks, and the soft concern in her voice makes him sick.

She’s been distant lately. Cold with him.

She’s supposed to be prickly, quirky.

He looks at her, and he can’t be bothered to change the expression already etched into his face. Anger. Heartbreak. Devastation. 

She puts her hands up, and allows him on his way, but he can practically feel her pity oozing out of her.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps walking.

Over and over and over again, person after person walks up to him and tries to talk.

“Castiel, are you alright?”

“Castiel, what’s wrong?”

“Castiel, just talk to us.”

He brushes them off, and with the later ones he can even offer a faint smile.

Daniel walks up to him and asks if he’s okay, while telling about something in his day. 

Daniel does make him smile, for real. Even if it was only for a second. After the conversation, though, he (albeit shakily) asks if he can go.

Daniel says, “Yeah, ‘course. I just wanted to tell you.”

“Yeah, I get it. No worries, Daniel.” Cas nods, and as Daniel walks away, it hits him again. Full force. His chest aches and his breath is practically holding itself in. He’s only able to get in a breath when he starts the trek to his room again, his breath wheezing in his throat.

Each step becomes heavier and heavier, until he feels unable to walk. Just as he swears that his body must be two hundred pounds, just as his legs buckle underneath him, just as every inch of his being seems to burst into flames, he opens his bedroom door, colors flashing before his eyes before finally dissolving into a void of black in his vision.

Cas blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of Chapter 15, you guys can hop into my inbox and, if you'd like, I will explain why these next few chapters are short. Unfortunately, that will require spoilers, so, end of Chapter 15, kay? Anything else, though, you can send here or, as always, @theselfhatingangelofthursday on tumblr!


	12. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel handles the aftermath of Dean's betrayal, beginning with some new rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo the beginning of my favorite arc. Enjoy m'loves! <3

Castiel steps out of his room, every step loud, quick, and purposeful.

His chin is raised, and his eyes cold as his arms swing in a determined fashion at his side. 

He reaches his destination, room 983, and he glances around, eyes scanning the hall, before he knocks. Three sharp raps on the wooden door. 

He’s wearing his big overcoat along with his suit. It’s not something he generally wears around The Sanctuary, usually just wearing it outside.

He figured it was appropriate for today.

Sam opens the door to his bedroom, bleary eyed and confused. His eyes are tinted red and his face is still a bit pale, but of course, he’s not the only one.

“Castiel, what are you doing here? I mean, come in, I just…” he steps back, opening the door further for Castiel. 

He steps inside, glancing around.

“Sam, I need to ask you a few questions, a few favors, and then I’m going to tell you exactly what you’re going to do, and _maybe_ you can stay here.”

Sam lets out a disbelieving huff of breath, furrowing his brow. “Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Sam, were you aware your brother is a police officer?”

“Oh.” Sam lets out another, softer breath, and Castiel very pointedly doesn’t look at him, his eyes fixed on a bedpost across the room. “Cas, I’m so-“

“Don’t say you’re sorry, and if you wouldn’t mind,” he looks back to Sam, “I would _much_ prefer you not call me Cas.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Yeah, I knew he was a cop.”

The words just seem to pour gasoline over the fire in his soul, and he looks away from Sam again, his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“Okay. Are you actually a pyrokinetic? Or was this part of Dean’s…” Castiel’s words catch in his throat, so he simply clears it and continues, “elaborate plan?”

Even not looking at Sam, he can feel the energy shift in the room. Practically hear Sam’s every muscle tense. 

“No, I… I really am. Jessica, my girlfriend, is really dead, and it is really… really my fault.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Sam. Truly.” Cas says, and he lets out a soft breath. The moment of vulnerability, though, is wiped away as he meets Sam’s eyes again. “But you must understand. Sam, I need to know that I have your utmost respect, trust, and loyalty.”

Sam nods. “Yeah, of course. You’re helping me.”

“Time for the favors, then.” 

Sam nods again, stepping closer.

“Give me your phone.” Castiel says, eyebrows raised and hand outstretched.

Sam looks at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before he pulls out his phone. Castiel looks at it for a moment, before walking out to the hallway.

He looks around, one more time, before throwing the phone, full force, at the floor. It shatters to pieces, and he hears a slight whimper from Sam. 

“Seeing as you didn’t arrive with one, I’m assuming you don’t have a laptop?”

“Oh, um, no. It went up in the… the fire.”

Castiel nods, brushing his hands off against each other. “Okay. Anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay. If I find out, or suspect, in any way, that you’re in contact with Dean, you’re out. You can ask me first, and maybe, _maybe_ I’ll allow it. When met with extremely good reason. And Sam?”

Sam seems to have frozen. He’s sort of pale. 

Cas understands, he does. But he has a feeling that Dean and Sam have been through a lot together. He has a feeling their bond much surpasses his with his brothers.

Finally, Sam clears his throat, and says, “yeah?”

“I’m going to need you to prove you have powers.”

Sam goes more pale. Pale to the point that Cas thinks the man in front of him is going to pass out, any second now. 

“You’re gonna… what?” His eyebrows raise and his head moves a bit to the side, while the rest of his body stays stock still.

“Something simple. Light a match. Set a stick on fire. But I need proof.”

“Castiel, I can’t j-“

“Sam, I know you understand why I’m doing this. This is for the safety of you and everyone surrounding you. I’m going to need _proof_.”

“You have to understand, I-“

“You have a day, you can work with Eileen on it. In fact, if she vouches for you having powers, I won’t question it.”

“Okay.” Sam says finally, resigned. He looks blocked off, lacking the vulnerability he’d had just last night.

If he thought about it, if he allowed himself for just a second, he’d think about Dean’s father. Sam’s father.

The one Dean had spoken about more akin to a commanding officer than a father.

But he can’t think about it.

 _His_ name can’t cross Castiel’s mind.

Not once.

“If you want to leave, you need supervision.”

Sam nods. “I understand.”

“Good. If you have any questions, if you think for even one second I wouldn’t approve of something, ask me.” Cas turns, ready to leave and get Sam’s face, his resigned, cold expression, out of his head.

“Cas-Castiel? What happened?”

“Your brother’s a cop.”

“Yeah, I know. But, Dea-“

“No. Don’t tell me he’s a good person.” He turns back to face Sam, his jaw set. “Don’t tell me he means well, or that he wasn’t trying to hurt us. Your brother is a police officer. He threatened me and those I love and protect. Even if he did care, by some miracle, he won’t come back, and he’ll die regretting it.”

Or worse.

He’ll forget.

Or, god, even worse.

He _will_ come back, not caring.

“Maybe, maybe, by some miracle, he gains my forgiveness. Then what? What proof will he have? Who’s safe? I’ll have to relocate this whole place. I’ll have to kick people out or separate them. Sam, Dean has started a long chain of events, that cannot be undone. All I can hope to do is recon. I…” Cas swallows his next words, not allowing them to process in his mind. “I do hope you’ll follow my rules. I’m holding a meeting at one. Be there.” And with that, Castiel shakes his head, sighing, before turning and leaving Sam alone.

* * *

Castiel goes door to door. Family to family, person to person, room to room. For most, it’s a simple, “Meeting at one in the common room.” 

Occasionally he trades a word or two with the inhabitants of the room, but it’s nothing profound.

Nothing with warmth, or emotion, just simple, plain facts and nods.

He can feel the ice in his chest, clutching at his heart and frosting his gut.

Spreading, growing and threatening to freeze him from the inside out.

* * *

At one o’clock, Castiel steps out of his room in The Sanctuary. He walks down the hallway, his steps thudding against the concrete. He reaches the common room, and all of the mingling voices suddenly quiet. Nobody reaches out to him, not like last night, and god is he glad. 

He couldn’t bear to feel one more person reach out to touch him, or hear their concerned tones, or see their sad faces.

He can’t bear to think of the pity that would be etched deeply into their expressions.

Cas gestures for all the people to relax, sit down where they can, and they all do. He takes a place at the front of the room, sucking in a long breath. 

“Can I have your attention?” He calls, although he knows full well all eyes are on him.

The crowd nods, as though entranced. 

“As I’m sure…” he clears his throat, and for a second he glances at the floor, before returning his gaze to the mass of people, “As I’m sure most of you know, we had an intruder, recently. I’m sorry to say, that… Dean was an undercover cop.”

Chatter erupts again, and Castiel clears his throat again. 

“I know you all liked him, but… well, clearly it was ill of fate. I’m sorry. But this has led to some new rules. I’m cracking down on everything currently in place, and everything that needs a new rule will be enforced. We are on lockdown.” Castiel glances around, before spotting a couch with an empty spot.

He hops on top of it, before looking around. He can clearly see everyone right now, and god, it hurts. 

They look…

They look so _scared_.

So _hurt_.

He’ll do anything in his power to stop seeing those looks on their faces.

“I’m going to need any and all devices you own. I’ll be coming door to door over the course of the next day, perhaps two, and I would like it all gathered up by the time I arrive. To use any of it, you have to ask my permission. To leave, you have to ask my permission. Unless, of course, you have my explicit _permission_ to use it alone. Technology will be supervised but, of course, respected. I’m going to be doing power and mutation check-ins once monthly, at least.” Castiel looks out on the crowd, his expression devoid of any emotion. 

Cold, hard. 

He forces it to warm up, and he packs sympathy in his eyes. 

He wants to, he does, but it’s hard for him to feel anything right now.

Castiel cannot feel.

“I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be. I wasn’t aware that… that times were changing. I didn’t acknowledge that new rules would need to be made. Please, if you have any grievances, you can come to me at any time.”

Many people look sad, like they do have questions, but Castiel hops down off of the couch. 

“I’m going to start going around for devices tomorrow morning, the first room at 7am sharp. Everything should be running as normal, but we are going to have to be much more careful and safe. We can’t risk another infiltration. And, I’m going to have to ask something from you all.”

The turned attention returns full force to him, and talking starts up again.

“I know, guys, I know.” He says, hands up. “One more thing. Those of you who… can fight, especially who can use their powers to do so, I need your help. We need to train, to prepare to protect ourselves in the event of a raid. I’m not going to ask you to decide right now, but those of you who want to help, Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer are going to work on training. They’re good fighters. If you want to hone any power related skills, you can ask me. If at any given point you decide you want to train, prepare yourself, they will be training every other day at 2, starting tomorrow.”

The chatter continues, and Castiel knows he’s losing them, so he quickly calls, “You’re all excused.”

He sighs, before steeling himself and starting to make his way through the crowd, to where he knows Charlie will be standing.

Shes against the wall, arms crossed, and Castiel is sure to shove it all, every little bit, back behind that wall. She doesn’t need to know how he’s feeling.

“Charlie.” Castiel says as he finally reaches her.

“Cas, hey, ar-“ Charlie starts, her eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“I’m fine.” He says quickly. “Charlie, I need you to keep an eye on Sam.”

“Cas, he’s fine, really. He’s grieving. He doesn’t need me over his shoulder.”

“Charlie, there’s no question about it. I need you to watch him.”

“Cas, just because you’re hurting, you can’t-“

“Charlie, what did I say?” Castiel snaps.

The ache in his chest comes back when he sees Charlie flinch back, and it grows even more when he sees the sad, pity-ridden expression she wears.

“Charlie, just… please.” Cas lets out a sigh, and he swallows it all back down. He can practically feel his emotions as they go down with the bile, settling in the pit of his stomach.

Charlie looks hurt. Pained, like someone had just stabbed her. But she forces a smile and nods. “Of course, Cas. If… if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Charlie.” Castiel says, before turning on his heel and walking toward the bedrooms of The Sanctuary, eyes squeezed shut and lips pursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you thought! Talk to me here or @theselfhatingangelofthursday on tumblr!


	13. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel deals with multitudes of new rules and duties in the light of Dean's departure.

Door to door, one by one. 

Buckets upon buckets.

Phones labeled on the back, laptops on the top.

Every time he reaches a door, they’re prepared. Little boxes are occasionally already set up. Very few people put up fights, maybe twenty, max.

Crowley threw a fit, even going so far as to clutch his phone dramatically to his chest.

But when Castiel threw him a glare, one that distinctly said ‘No fucking around,’ Crowley put his phone in among the rest.

Castiel walks back into his room, but he only sets boxes down and leaves again. Every last box gets set in the room, two every hour, and then at 2 am every morning, he stumbles his way into his bedroom and collapses onto his bed.

* * *

He makes his way to each room again the next week, door to door to door. It’s always the same.

“Do you need anything?” Castiel asks, eyebrows raised and corners of his lips curled up, albeit tightly. 

The fifth door, the one belonging to Amara, is the first one to say yes. 

“Actually, I was wondering if we had any brighter light bulbs. It’s incredibly dark in here, I could use a spare light, at least in the first room.” She says, one hand on the doorknob. 

“Oh, yes, of course. It’s been a while since they’ve been replaced, I’ll get right on that.” Castiel nods, before promptly turning on his heel and walking away, a non-existent goodbye hanging in the air.

It’s okay, he’s not entirely fond of Amara. It’s not like he could be bothered.

* * *

Room to room, he replaces every single light bulb. His arm aches from reaching high above his head. His legs ache from long walks on concrete floors.

Room to room, everyone lets him in with nothing from him but a simple “I’m changing the lightbulbs.” and a forced, ruptured smile.

He gets shocked, more than once. A symptom of the old building, he figures.

He gets it all done within a day, walking into his room at 4 am with buzzing arms, shocked and tingling with an icy fire.

It’s not enough.

* * *

Room to room again, the same question. 

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

A chorus that adds pounds to the barbell in his stomach.

Finally,  _ finally, _ he reaches Balthazar’s door.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yeah, I could use fine help stocking Distribution. You okay, Cassie?”

“Balthazar, I’ve  _ told you _ to stop calling me that. Let me help you.” Castiel says, stepping back and awaiting instruction.

* * *

Castiel doesn’t let Balthazar carry a thing. Everything he receives, he carries dutifully to the room, setting it down in perfect stacks.

And there are  _ stacks _ .

When he’s done, he brushes off his hands and looks behind him with Balthazar, who’s wearing an uncharacteristic expression. Concern. His lips are pursed and his eyebrows pushed in together.

Castiel waves him off. “Go. I’ll do this.”

“Cas, are you su-“

“Go.” He says, a little more final this time. “Please. I know where everything belongs, this won’t take me long.”

“Cas, this took two whole hours to bring inside. It’ll-“

“Go.”

Balthazar looks him up and down once more, before turning around and leaving.

* * *

Balthazar is right. 

Castiel ends up sweating at 4 am, his legs aching as he makes his way through the distribution room.

Every inch of his body aches, screaming at him to stop, sleep, go do  _ something else _ . 

His joints crack and his eyes sting.

He works through the night and well into the day, collapsing into his bed at noon.

The job is done, and  _ god _ , it’s still not enough.

* * *

The chorus begins again when he wakes up a day later, making his way throughout the bunker.

Door to door.

“No,” here and there, every time he asks to help someone.

Help  _ anyone _ .

Castiel finally reaches a yes. 

“Air is having a hard time reaching my room, I’m not sure why, but… I think something’s wrong with the vents?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I haven’t gotten to check them recently, I’ll do that.”

* * *

He turns on the backup vents and leaves all the doors open for air, and he closes off the main vent.

And that’s how Castiel ends up crawling through vents, looking for blocked passageways. He scrubs the walls and cleans every filter out. This one takes three days, soaked in sweat, dirt, and absolutely no tears.

Not a drop.

He loses a day, and when he comes out of his work-induced daze, he has a whole section of the vents done. 

He collapses into his bed at 1 pm, only twice for his three days.

* * *

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

Each no is a strike to his heart, an icicle striking deep into his chest.

Finally, 

“Yeah, sure. Could you help me in the kitchen today? Linda and Kevin are out and it’s my shift.”

“Sure, I’d love to. I can do it on my own. Don’t worry about it.” Is Castiel’s immediate response.

Hannah furrows her brows and starts to protest, but Castiel simply waves her off.

“Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

Castiel works every kitchen shift, one after the other. 

In the small kitchen, sweating and struggling to keep up. 

4am, 10am, 5pm.

Over and over, in one large circle.

Again and again and again. 

New dishes, old dishes, things he’s made and things he’s eaten, things he’s never heard of, and things he’s only heard of on TV and in books.

It’s still not enough.

* * *

Time drags on, and Linda and Kevin return, and once again, it’s door to door.

Every time a door closes, he’s hit by the wave of frigid waters again. He keeps moving, though.

Door to door to door to door.

_ God _ , he’s just so tired.

* * *

Cas cannot stop moving. 

It’s his routine now. Day in, day out.

_ Wake up at 5. _

_ Knock on doors, pray to god someone says yes. _

_ If they do, work until your whole body tends to buckle with your weight. _

_ Collapse into bed. _

_ Wake up at 5. _

Everything is hollow.

His bones are ice.

While his grace flares, begging for his fire to reignite, all the ice has to do is send a freezing gust its way, and it returns to hiding.

As does he, retreating as soon as possible.

* * *

It becomes hard, the “no”s start coming from the same people. 

He has no one left to help. 

So he searches on his own. 

The Sanctuary is in better condition, more cleaned and polished than it has ever been.

Something’s still missing, of course.

It’s… empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! It is a short, more succinct one, so it can be of limited taste. Now, these next chapters can be a little heavy (in my opinion), so if at any point you feel stressed or upset while reading them, just let me know! I'll be happy to summarize them for you. Beside that, though, let me know what you thought! Either here, or tumblr is much appreciated. <3


	14. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is at the end of his rope, hopelessly gripping at frayed knots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Loves! First off, the offer still stands; if something gets to heavy for you, let me know! I'll happily tell you what happened this chapter so you can move on.
> 
> Secondly, I haven't gotten the chance to send individual replies, but please know, all your comments are greatly appreciated and I have read them and I am grateful for them all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He gave himself away with the gloves, he knows it. 

He just couldn’t walk around, though, with his hands bare.

Being in the same proximity as someone with his hands uncovered, god, it made his heart pound and his body break out in cold sweats.

From that, he gets a fair amount of curious looks and concerned glances.

And it makes it  _ that much worse _ .

* * *

“Hey, Cas?” Charlie asks, starting at a jog toward him before slowing to a walk as her muscles tense. 

“Yes, Charlie?” Castiel asks, skipping ahead a step and speeding up. 

He cannot look her in the eyes.

He cannot see her.

She’ll see straight through him.

His hands clench at his sides as she continues.

“How are you doing? You’re… I know how you’re doing, but-“

“Charlie, leave me alone.” Castiel says. “If you want to talk, do it now. I’m on my way to the gym.”

“Cas, please-“

“Charlie, what do you need?”

“Cas, I’m  _ worried about you _ .” She says, stepping forward and finally grabbing a hold on his wrist. The second she makes contact though, she cries out in agony and lets go, panting.

He stops. He knows she’s felt him, that she just got a glimpse into his soul, but he can’t turn around. He can’t comfort her. He heard her hit the ground, but if he turns around, he will too.

He runs.

* * *

Castiel’s mind buzzes with empty thoughts as he cleans the bags in the gym. It’s the perfect routine, bringing aches to his arms as he reaches high above his head to clean the top.

The door of the gym swings open, and Castiel lets out a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning his head forward. He brings his hands down from the top of the punching bag, pulling off his gloves and checking the time from the watch on his wrist. “Gabriel, I need to finish thes-“

“Not Gabriel.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother turning around. “You’re early,  _ Lucifer _ . I need to finish these bags.”

“Any clean ones?” Lucifer asks, walking up to Castiel as he wraps his knuckles.

Castiel stops cleaning, running his hands down the bag he’s on. Finally, he takes off his watch, throwing it to the side, and pulls off his shirt. “Do you have spare wraps?” He asks, turning around.

Lucifer’s eyebrows rise and he looks impressed, but the pride only lasts a moment before he smirks, pulling some out of his back pocket and tossing them to Castiel.

Castiel takes no time in unwrapping the long strips of fabric, weaving them around his hands.

He doesn’t bother with boxing gloves, he just kicks off his shoes and points at the ring.

“What’s got you all worked up,  _ Cassandra _ ?” Lucifer asks, his tone sneering as his throat forms the nickname, gross in his voice.

“Bold words for someone who’s about to get his ass kicked.” Castiel says, before turning around and adding, “I would call you ‘Lucy,’ but casual misogyny is useless when I’m sure a woman named Cassandra could beat the shit out of you just as well as myself.”

Lucifer goes quiet, and Castiel doesn’t bother studying the expression on his face as he continues his walk to the ring, cleaning supplies forgotten.

He steps into the ring, cracking his knuckles and popping up on his toes, before pulling up his legs and throwing his socks off.

He bounces on his toes for a minute, before settling back and waiting for Lucifer, who takes only forty more seconds or so to reach Castiel.

Castiel can feel his heart pounding, he can feel the tight wraps around his hands, the cold mat beneath him.

_ Finally _ , he can feel.

Lucifer pops up on his toes as well, and Castiel licks his lips before setting his jaw.

They move around each other for a few seconds, but it doesn’t take but a whole minute for the first swing to be thrown.

Castiel doesn’t even notice who it is. He thinks it’s Lucifer, because he tastes copper in his mouth and his neck hurts. The next feeling, though, is skin to his fist. 

It burns, in his bones, and he feels his soul reignite.

The fire’s back.

Lucifer hardly gets one hit to each of his five. 

He gets in two, three kicks for each of his own five punches too, and Lucifer doesn’t stand a chance. 

He doesn’t care, not even a bit, when he notices that the other man’s face is painted with his own blood, his skin tarnished and colored with bruises.

The fight lasts for a brief six minutes, and that’s all it takes, because when Castiel’s foot strikes Lucifer’s sternum, he’s on the ground immediately. 

Castiel pants, the air burning deep into his lungs. “Looks like maybe you shouldn’t be one of the trainers, huh.” His lips curl up at one side, but there’s nothing in it.

Nothing but an act, void of emotion. 

“Tell you what, you clean up your own blood,” Cas glances at the red splatters on the floor, then back to Lucifer, “and maybe I won’t give you the rest of the bags to clean.” 

He walks out of the ring with ease, unwrapping his hands and leaving the bandages on the floor, with the rest of Lucifer’s belongings. He doesn’t even bother grabbing his own, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he exits the room, bumping shoulders with Gabriel as he walks. 

Gabriel clearly tries to say something, but goes quiet when Castiel doesn’t so much as utter an apology.

The fire’s back, and while blue, and freezing, it also burns hotter than ever, leaving his body in the dust.

* * *

Gloves, long sleeves, and jeans in the summer aren’t Castiel’s best idea.

I mean, they are. He doesn’t exactly have another choice. 

_ A danger to your family _ .

_ A danger to The Sanctuary. _

_ A danger to the world. _

Words, thoughts, memories run through his head as he slips on old leather gloves. Gloves he’s owned since he was 14 years old. They’re getting tight, too small, but they’re worn and comfortable with age.

They’re safe.

Not for him.

For those he cares about.

He uses cleaning as an excuse. 

When he does speak to people, it’s simple. 

“Ah, I’m just cleaning the oven. Can’t do that bare handed.”

“Working in the vents today. Don’t want to get it on me, you know?”

“Someone had a plumbing problem. No way I’m working in pipes without gloves.”

Of course, Charlie calls him on his bullshit.

He doesn’t really let her, he’s still running, but Gabriel joins in too. Then Balthazar.

“Cas, what’s wrong?”

“Cas, talk to us.”

“Cas, we just want to know you’re okay.”

“Cas,  _ please _ .”

And he runs. 

He runs, and he runs, and he runs, from everyone who closes in on him.

They all suffocate him, from 3, 6, 8, 12 feet away, they all kill him. 

He can’t breathe.

He can’t feel his heartbeat.

All he knows is that he feels like dying.

He feels like death.

God, he  _ is _ Death.

* * *

Castiel can’t feel the skin on his body. 

He can’t feel the air in his lungs.

He can’t feel the ground against his feet. 

He can’t feel anything.

* * *

Castiel can’t hear the people around him.

He can’t hear the air rushing as he runs.

He can’t hear his own heavy, shallow breathing.

He can’t hear anything.

* * *

Castiel is numb.

Everything’s blank. He can’t see. It’s all bright light, blinding him and burning his eyes.

* * *

Finally, he feels something.

Finally he hears something.

He feels his knees hit the floor.

He hears screams around him, and concerned yells.

He hears his name, screamed in a loud, familiar voice that he just can’t place.

He feels his body curl over, his stomach curdling and his head pounding.

He hears screams of “Get back!” and “Go to your rooms!”

He feels the fire burning his body to ash, and he feels the fire begging to burn everything else around him.

Finally,  _ finally _ , he feels.

And it’s  _ terrible. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh noooo


	15. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of Cas' breakdown, and finally, the aftermath, he can finally begin to feel again. One of the things that he's feeling, though, ifs the cracks in his gentle porcelain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might say he has a crack in his chassis.
> 
> Anyways! This is the last Cas chapter, guys! On that front, I hope you enjoy. <3

Cas is covered in a bright, blinding light, and he can feel it pulsing out of him in waves.

His own broken scream is deafening, and it threatens to hurt his ears.

His covered fingers curl and grip into the concrete as best as they can. 

Finally, thoughts of Dean, of his betrayal run through Cas’ mind.

The ocean of thoughts overruns him.

He drowns in it.

He feels like he’s been dragged into the hellfire, bound to torture for all of eternity. 

Finally, though, something reaches through the flames.

A voice.

His brother’s voice.

“Hey, Cas!”

Gabriel.

“Cas, I need you to look at me! I need you to breathe.”

It’s all Cas can hear, and it’s his saving grace. 

“Gabriel-“ Cas croaks, but it’s all he can choke out. He collapses further, falling from his hands and knees to lie on his stomach. The light is gone, and he’s choking through his breathing.

He feels his lungs squeeze and he hears his own breaths wheeze in his throat, and all he can do is let it happen. 

“Cas, c’mon, breathe. It’s okay, but- fuck-“ Gabriel’s voice stops for a minute, and Cas curls up on his side, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He feels the fire pulse around him, and the ocean of hellfire is back, rushing over him.

Dean, Dean, Dean.

That’s all it is.

His heart squeezes, collapses and folds in on itself, and he does too. His whole body, curled into a ball as though he’s a child.

That’s what he is.

A child.

Innocent, pure, allowing strangers in and trusting them. His heart on his sleeve and his love given openly. 

God, how he’d been deceived.

He wishes he could say that he isn’t a child. That he’s grown out of that since Dean’s deception.

But here he is, curled on the floor, recklessly endangering people, sobbing and mourning a love he never truly had.

And that’s the problem.

He still believes he had it.

Deep down, deep, deep down he believes that Dean loved him.

Loves him, even.

And that,  _ that _ is the part that hurts the most.

The part that aches. 

The part that threatens to break, to crumble with every step he takes.

And with it, he would crumble too.

“Cas, I know it hurts! I can’t even feel it, I’ve never felt it before, but I know. I need you to breathe, though. Cas, these people are scared!  _ Your _ people. You’re going to hurt someone!”

Cas’ arms cross each other and his fingers dig into his biceps. 

He starts to breathe.

_ In, 2 3 4  _

_ Out, 2 3 4 5 6 _

_ In, 2 3 4  _

_ Out, 2 3 4 5 6 _

_ In, 2 3 4  _

_ Out, 2 3 4 5 6 _

Cas opens his eyes, and suddenly, the light is gone. He can see.

He can see.

He can feel, too. For the first time in…

How long has it been?

He feels the cold against his body, from the concrete. 

He feels the sweat in his hair, slicking it down grossly.

And, he feels the pain. He does. It’s pulsing, still, but it’s different. It’s… in a way, it’s better than before.

He’s never going to be able to stand up, is he?

“Cas, hey.” Gabriel says, and he takes a careful step closer. 

From the floor, through squinted eyes, Cas can somewhat take in the scene.

He’s in the common room.

_ Oh God, not the common room. _

People are gone. There’s no one in the room. 

Charlie’s not there, she can’t be.

He’d have…

Nope, he can’t think about that.

Balthazar and Gabriel are there, crouched a few feet away. 

The ones with grace.

The ones to tie him down when he was younger.

The ones to soothe him and help him through it all.

He blinks, hard and slow. 

“Gabriel. Balthazar.” He chokes out, his throat rough and his lips and tongue dry.

His face, wet with tears, twists up in pain at the feeling, but he keeps his eyes open to watch Gabriel and Balthazar.

The both of them physically relax, their bodies slumping a bit.

“Cas,” Gabriel starts with something else, but his eyes shift a bit and he very clearly switches topics, “c’mon. Let’s get you up.”

Gabriel steps closer to Cas and he flinches away, eyes closed and fingers curled into tight fists.

“Hey…” Gabriel backs off, his hands up. Balthazar meets Gabriel by his side, and the both of them sit down fully. 

Cas can’t do anything but curl up further, his spine feeling fully liquified. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to sit up ten years from now.

But he just needs some time, just a  _ little _ time before he asks for help.

Gabriel and Balthazar sit in silence, watching Cas like an injured animal. 

He hates it.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He whispers, before saying it again, his voice just a little more firm. “Stop looking at me like that. Please.”

“Well, Cas, you’ve been on the floor for over thirty minutes.” Balthazar says, his lips quirked up slightly.

Cas offers a light, mostly empty smile, but it has a tint of sincerity to it. “I suppose.” He murmurs, before his eyebrows furrow. “Thirty minutes?”

Both Gabriel and Balthazar nod, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Charlie took everyone away, got them out of the room, but she almost fell in on herself too.” Gabriel pauses, before adding, “No one got hurt. Don’t worry.” He offers a small smile, his hands on his knees as though in faux meditation.

Cas nods, resting his heavy head back on the concrete. 

“I…” He closes his eyes, and he lets out a sigh.

“Can you help me? I want to go to my room, but I don’t think I can… walk.” He murmurs, looking at his brothers.

They both nod, making their ways to his side and helping him up.

He was right, of course.

His spine is jelly, and his knees buckle under his weight, but Gabriel and Balthazar heft him up, practically carrying him toward his room in the bunker.

Cas walks with them, but his head is hung low and his eyes are closed as he allows his brothers to guide him on his way.

Slowly they make their way through the hallway, and the only thought he can force into his mind is,  _ I wish I’d picked a closer room _ .

Finally, Gabriel and Balthazar get him to his room, and Balthazar asks if he wants them to stay.

As Cas sits on his bed, he shakes his head. “No, I’d… I’d like some time alone, if that’s alright.”

Balthazar and Gabriel glance at each other, and the looks make his heart twinge in pain, squeezing up again. 

The concern, the caution.

It makes him sick.

But after a moment they nod, and leave with nothing other than light “Okay”s.

Cas sits there, on his bed still, and for a moment he wishes he could be numb again.

He wishes he couldn’t feel every pounding beat of his heart. 

He wishes he couldn’t feel his empty stomach twist and curl up on itself.

He wishes he couldn’t feel his brain running a million miles an hour on empty, bound to crash again.

Again, and again, and again.

He reaches up, and runs a hand through his sticky, soaked hair, and it makes him wince, bile rising in his throat again.

He stands on liquid legs, and goes to take a shower.

If he collapses in on himself and sobs for an hour, well…

No one can see it this time.

* * *

About two hours later, Cas has finally settled down.

The pain is still deep in his chest, engraved and aching. 

But it’s at rest.

He knows he’s going to hurt.

Hell, even if Dean came back now and begged his place back, he would still hurt.

But it’s getting better.

Very, very slowly, but it is.

He lies on his bed, still in his robe due to, well… if he’s being completely honest, he hadn’t had much of a will to get dressed at all.

But he dragged himself out of the shower, and that’s enough.

Right?

He closes his eyes and rests his arms over his chest, crossed. 

_ In, 2 3 4  _

_ Out, 2 3 4 5 6 _

_ In, 2 3 4  _

_ Out, 2 3 4 5 6 _

_ In, 2 3 4  _

_ Out, 2 3 4 5 6 _

Cas feels his mind coming down to earth, and he suddenly knows exactly why he gives these breathing exercises to everyone.

They really do help.

A light knock on his door interrupts him, and he pulls his blanket up a little before calling, “Come in!” 

His voice cracks about halfway through, and he winces, but he doesn’t retract the offer.

“Hey, Cas.” Charlie says, her voice soft as she steps inside. Every movement is careful, and once again he feels like the injured animal.

He can’t meet her eyes, so his gaze settles on the wall farthest from him. 

“Hey, Charlie. I… I’m s-“

“Cas, don’t apologize.” Charlie walks over, taking a seat on the bed beside him.

He doesn’t make a move to stop her. In fact… it feels good. He likes having her here with him.

Really, it means everything to him. 

“Charlie, I almost hurt you. And everyone else.”

“But you didn’t, now did you? Look, everyone understands. It’s fine, really.” Charlie’s eyebrows rise and her eyes are soft, gentle. 

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“Cas, I’m just being honest with you. Seriously.” Charlie says, and she places a hand on his knee.

He’d say that motion meant more than she could understand, but judging by the smile growing on her face when she does it, she really does understand.

Empathy, while being a bitch of a thing, can be good at times too.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “I mean, I knew you were… nearby.”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about me. The empaths and telepaths and such hunkered down at the far side. It was a little much, but… Cas, I’m more worried about you. Stop asking about me.”

“Charlie, please don’t worry. I’m fine.” He says, before amending the statement with, “I’m not fine. But I’m better.”

“I’m glad.” 

The both of them sit in a comfortable silence, and Cas even closes his eyes, perfectly happy to relax there.

“Cas?”

“Yeah, Charlie?” He opens his eyes and focuses back on her with little difficulty.

“I’m gonna find Dean.”

“You’re gonna-  _ What? _ ”

“I’m going to find Dean, and either I’m going to kill the son of a bitch or I’m gonna bring him back. Probably the former, but I’m gonna give him a shot.”

“Charlie,  _ no _ , that’s a-“ Cas blinks, hard and fast. “Charlie, this is a terrible idea.”

“Cas, please, I need you to trust me. I just… I need answers.” She pauses, before looking down at the sheets between them. “Cas, I  _ know _ I felt something from him. He was… he was being honest about something. I know it.”

And there it is.

That stupid,

stupid,

stupid,

stupid hope. 

It’s back, and it aches. It’s not even sharp, it’s not like he’s been stabbed or even that his heart has been broken. It’s just a deep, hard aching inside his soul.

“Charlie, I-“

“Cas,  _ please _ . Let me do this. I won’t go without your blessing, and I won’t bring him back unless he’s well and truly… good, but I want to go.”

Cas gulps down the fear rising in his throat, and then sucks in a breath to make his heart slow.

It doesn’t work.

“If… Charlie, if that’s what you really want, I suppose… it’s okay.”

“Okay.” Charlie says, looking up and meeting his eyes. 

He nods. “You okay, Charlie? You don’t seem… yourself.”

She lets out a soft laugh, waving him off. “Nah, Cas. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

But Cas knows exactly what it is.

She’s cushioning herself, she’s censoring her words.

For his sake.

And he hates it, yes, but he’s ever grateful for her in that moment. He’s not sure that he would be able to handle her usual brashness.

“Thank you, Charlie.” He says, face gentle and soft. He reaches forward, placing his hand on hers, and she nods.

“No worries, Cas.” She replies, before leaning forward and booping his nose. “I’m out. I’m gonna send someone to check on you, though. If that’s cool?”

“Oh…” Cas bites his lip, but nods. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

He’s gonna have to get dressed.

He’s gonna have to stand up.

He’s gonna have to  _ move. _

Charlie stands up, offering him one last smile. 

“Alright, bye Cas.”

“Bye, Charlie.” Cas says, returning her smile, before adding, slowly, “Good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... Well, say goodbye to Cas! My Love, My Life. And say hello to Dean! And, of course, say good luck to Charlie, on her mission to find him. (You could say hello to me too, here or on my tumblr, but that's not near as important; Charlie needs the luck)


	16. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie bursts in on a very... well, on a very Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One again, every single comment is appreciated; extremely so. I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately, and I’ve also been writing a lot and planning another fic, so it’s been kind of crazy up here in my brain. Nevertheless, enjoy! I’m try to respond to your comments, but please don’t be discouraged if I don’t. <3

“I swear, if you knock one more time, I’m going to kill you.” Dean groans out, tightening his arms around his pillow. 

His heart pounds in his head, and he digs his face deeper into the pillow.

He can’t  _ fucking  _ move.

The incessant knocking that mimics that in his head ceases for a moment, and he actually lets out a sigh in relief. 

It’s not until he hears a click and the tell tale turning of a door knob that he sits up, pointing the handgun that had been resting underneath his pillow at the intruder.

He can’t shoot, he knows that. His head hurts like a bitch and the world is spinning around him. 

But when he realizes the barrel of his gun is pointed at  _ Charlie, _ he quickly sets it down.

“Charlie, what the fuck?” He asks, one hand gripping the side of his head. His voice is scratchy and deep, and words feel like sandpaper against his throat.

“I am giving you the benefit of the doubt here, Dean. I suggest putting the gun all the way away.”

“Charlie, leave.” Dean mutters, setting his gun on the nightstand.

On a normal day, he’d get up, get dressed, and  _ then _ tell her to fuck off to hell, but it’s not a normal day. So, here he is.

“Benefit of the doubt is seriously dwindling. I’m going to have to brutally murder you if or when it hits zero. Just, as a warning.”

Seriously?

“Charlie, what in the ever loving fuck are you doing here so early?” Dean asks. “And close the goddamn door.” He amends, eyes squinting against the painful light.

“It’s 3 in the afternoon, Dean. Are you…” she pauses, stepping closer and examining him.

God, he feels like some sort of lab rat. 

“Hungover? Yes.” He growls, before finding it in him, somehow, to stand up. 

He throws the covers off and walks over to the sink of the small motel room, clad in only black boxers. It was all he could get to before he collapsed onto bed, okay?

Turning on the faucet and pouring a cup of water, he ignores the fact that Charlie’s behind him.

She barged in, she can fucking wait for his attention.

“What do you want?” He asks after a bit, turning around.

Charlie’s closed the door and all of the blinds, which he is eternally grateful for.

“The truth.” Charlie states firmly, hands on her hips. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard it by now. Hasn’t-...” he trails off, before taking one large gulp of his water, followed by a muttering of “need something stronger” as he searches for so much as an ounce of alcohol.

“Step away from the mini fridge,” Charlie says, glancing around. She spots his name tag, the one on his uniform, and murmurs, “Winchester. Huh. Well, back off from the mini fridge, Winchester. I want the  _ whole _ truth.”

Dean throws her a glare as he pulls out a tiny shot bottle of crappy vodka, opening up the cap and throwing it back. “If you want the truth, I’m gonna need a lot more of these.” He says, holding the empty bottle up and shaking it a bit.

“Dean.” She says, simple, yet similar to the tone… similar to the tone  _ he _ used to use.

God, that hurts.

“Fine, what do you want to know?” Dean asks, stepping forward and sitting at the small table in the little motel kitchen. Charlie joins him.

“Tell me everything.” 

“There’s no point in lying to you, is there?” Dean asks, letting out a sigh.

“Not unless you want me to kill you. I can tell.”

Dean nods, and, sucking in a breath, he starts to tell her the truth. The whole story, from day one.

“Well, we first got a tip about The Sanctuary what, like, ten months now, I think. It was anonymous. Probably some bigoted bastard. But all the facts lined up. I’m a part of the Magic Department at LPD. Undercover doesn’t help us, so we go on our own missions. I’m a detective, so I find…” Dean pauses, biting his lip and looking at Charlie with an apologetic expression, before continuing, “people, and I go undercover too. I’ve had cases before, worked on them, but this one… this was my first huge case as a detective. We knew from the start that this would be the motherload. I work directly underneath the captain and his partner, and they almost stole the case out from under me, but, well, you can see how that worked out for them.

“Skip a couple months and we’re planning the mission. Building my backstory, my power, so on. We decided to keep my name, and in case I was asked, I was gonna use Smith for the last name... You guys never asked though.” He pauses, his eyebrows furrowing. “Why not?”

“We don’t believe in last names. They’re a separation. You make a name for yourself. Why do you think we have names like ‘Balthazar’ and…” Charlie sucks on her teeth, before leaning forward, eyes dead set on Dean’s, and he winces in preparation of the name that rolls off her tongue: “Castiel.”

Dean’s every nerve lights up again and his whole body burns. It goes straight to his chest, and he can feel it in his heart.

It’s  _ terrible. _

He clears his throat and raises his eyebrows. “Can I continue, kiddo?”

“We are the same age.”

“ _ Can I continue, kid?” _

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Dean raises his eyebrows, before continuing in a low voice. “I was finally ready after a while, and… I essentially rolled around in the dirt, didn’t eat for two days, and showed up on a bad day.”

Charlie nods, but she doesn’t say anything, her expression mixed and indicating long thought.

He wonders what she’s feeling from him.

“You know the story from there. I met Cas, I planned a raid, I kept my cover, but…” Dean shrugs nonchalantly. “It got hard. I, um…”

“You fell for him.” Charlie’s leaning forward, seemingly genuinely interested. 

Okay then.

“Yeah. And then, uh, Sammy. Everything happened with him, and I just couldn’t lie to Cas anymore. I felt so… so  _ bad _ . I felt like shit. About all of it. And I told him, you know? I just had to. So, well… You know.”

“Yeah.” Charlie scoffs, raising her eyebrows. “I know.”

“After Cas kicked me out, I, um, I was supposed to report to my partner, Benny, and my superiors. I didn’t though. Admitting it to them, well…” Dean sucks on his front teeth, before shaking his head. “Not only would it lead to a raid, I’d probably be put in jail. At best. And you know what they say about cops in jail.”

Charlie shoots him a look, her teeth gritted together.

He shrugs wordlessly, before continuing. “I… I went to a bar. One I knew was nearby. I was there for… God, I don’t know how long. Days. And when I wasn’t there I was here, drinking from a flask or straight from the bottle.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t remember the last time I drank that much. Then… well, I don’t know. Today’s, what, Wednesday?”

“Thursday.” 

“I’ve been asleep for two days.” Dean raises his eyebrows, running his tongue over his teeth and settling back. “Why do you care, Charlie? I can’t go back. I’m sure…” he swallows the sick feeling in his throat, “I’m sure Cas is still pissed, anyways, I can’t imagine he’s happy with you being here.”

Maybe pissed is the wrong word.

The same expression replays in Dean’s mind, over and over and over, since the moment he stepped out of The Sanctuary.

Cas  _ hates _ him.

Cas  _ despises him _ , and rightfully so.

Why wouldn’t he?

Dean hates himself for it, why wouldn’t Cas?

He should have never knocked on the damn door.

He should’ve gotten in the car and driven away.

Somewhere where he could never hurt anyone again.

He wishes he could go back.

Go back to before the first time he drowned in Cas’ eyes.

And  _ God,  _ did he drown.

Dean’s heart clenches tight and pinches in on itself, and he sets his jaw, his vision now far away. He hasn’t focused on Charlie in… How long? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? It feels like it’s been a millenia.

He just can’t stop it. 

He’s on a rollercoaster, down, down, down, down, d-

“Dean, Cas had a breakdown the other day.”

Dean’s stomach drops. His head is heavy and his vision tunnels a bit.

_ Fuck. _

“He  _ what? _ ” Dean asks, trying(and failing) to keep his expression neutral.

“He’s been working himself to the bone. Finally, he just… broke. His power, it leaked out of him. It was like he was a kid again; he almost killed someone.”

“Is he okay? Are the others okay? Charlie, I swear to god, I swear on my  _ car _ , if you don’t start talking faster I’m going to shoot you.”

“Trigger happy, much?” She raises an eyebrow, before continuing. “They’re all fine. Cas is bedridden. Or, he should be. I told them not to let him work. One girl was too close, the tip of one of her wings decayed. She won’t be able to fly again, but I think it stopped because he was fighting it. So, no one’s dead. And when Cas has a breakdown, that’s pretty much the standard.”

“Charlie, I-“ Dean chokes out, before he goes to change his direction. “Charlie, you should be there. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Dean,” Charlie starts, before sighing, shaking her head. “Cas  _ loves _ you. Don’t try and deny it, I can feel it.  _ Literally _ . And I feel the same… ooey gooey shit from you. I think it’s adorable, really, but this can’t continue.”

“Charlie-”

“No. Shut up, I do not want to hear it. I like you, I do. You  _ will be _ good for Cas. But I hate you. For everything you’ve done. You have to fix at least half of it before I let you go anywhere near our part of town.”

“You want me to call off the mission, right?”

She nods, offering a light smile. “I can tell you want to.” She shrugs. “And it’s what’s best. Dean, we can’t have a… a  _ cop _ in The Sanctuary.”

“I know that, Charlie. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“You know what I mean.” She says, tilting her head down and raising her eyebrows. “Dean, call off the raid, stop your… work buddies, or whatever, and I’ll take you back.”

“That’s all it takes?”

“Yeah, if it’s final.”

Dean’s head is spinning. 

It's a lost cause. 

How could Cas ever forgive him? 

_ Why _ would Cas forgive him?

But he doesn't care. He isn't thinking straight. The thought of seeing Cas again, to be able to tell Cas how he really feels, and to ask for forgiveness- God, he would beg if it meant he could have Cas back, even if it was only for a week. A day. A night. Anything.

At the very least, he can beg for forgiveness.

“Okay.” He says, suddenly set cold in his resolve. “I’ll do it. I’m going to stop the mission.”

He’s not quite sure who he’s talking to; Charlie, or himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a fun chapter, hm? Please, let me know what you thought, I’d love to hear from you!


	17. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Charlie prepare and steel themselves for the worst at the police station.

“Okay, okay, we get it, you’re a big boy. Put the thigh holster down, Dean.”

Dean shoots a glare over his shoulder. His leg is up, his foot on the bed as he straps his thigh holster on. “I don’t know if I’ll need it.”

“If you pull a gun on them, you’ll just get thirty right back on you. You work with them. You must know this.”

“I’m just going to keep it on me in case they pull theirs first. Self defense.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows, and looks at him in an expression of defiance, but only for a moment, before shrugging. “I’m going to be outside, just to avoid too many…” she shivered, and he knew exactly what she meant by it, “but if shit gets too high, I’ll join you, okay?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, I’ve got them. I shouldn’t have too many issues.”

“Yeah, well. Good luck anyways.” Charlie offers, shrugging. “No offense, of course, but cops…”

“Suck?” Dean raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Charlie smiles. “Epically.”

“Put down the holster.” 

“No.”

Charlie sighs, shaking her head. “Okay, what’s the plan?” 

“I’m going to appeal to their nonexistent better nature and hope that the ones that like me also want to side with me.”

Charlie blinks, her lips flattening into a line. “What a wonderful plan.” She deadpans, sighing.

“I’ve been running missions since I was fifteen years old. I know what I’m doing.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” She smiles lightly, before adding, “Can I drive?”

Dean puts his fingers on his chin in faux thought, before pointing at her. “Absolutely _not_.”

* * *

Dean’s heart starts to pound and his limbs ache as he makes his way up the steps of the station. He sucks in a long breath, though, and steels his face.

_This is just like any other mission, Dean._

_You’re doing what’s right._

_You’re not hurting them, you’re correcting them._

_Telling them what’s right._

He glances at Charlie, and she nods, but she stops walking. She steps back, resting her back against a pillar and kicking up her leg. “Good luck.”

Dean nods. “I’ll need it.” He mutters, before making his way into the station, swinging the door open.

* * *

“Dean, what’s this about?” Benny asks in his familiar, warm drawl. It actually helps calm Dean, so he’s grateful. 

“Benny, I need to round up the whole magic department. We’ll meet in the Squad Room. Help me?” Dean replies. And he knows it’s simplistic, he knows it doesn’t answer any questions, but he can’t say it twice. It’s all bottled up, in a small jar, behind a wall in the back of his mind. If he takes down the wall, if he opens the jar, there’s no rebuilding the wall. There’s no closing the jar.

Benny looks Dean up and down, skeptical, before nodding. He turns on his heel, making his way towards the various rooms. They have to wait for an interview to end, and for… for the Captain to finish whatever he was doing, but finally, Dean is standing in front of a large room, filled to the brim with cops.

 _Fuck._

There’s conversation, and every once in a while something’s aimed at him. 

“What are we doing here?”

“Dean, I’ve got a suspect in holding, I need to go.”

“Dean, aren’t you supposed to be undercover?”

“Welcome back, Dean!”

“Okay, okay,” Dean interrupts them finally, hands up, “I called you here for a reason, I promise. You gonna listen to me, or do I have to clap like a kindergarten teacher?”

That earns him a couple glares, a particularly cold one from the Captain, who says, “Get on with it, Dean.”

Well, he got their attention. 

“Alright,” Dean clears his throat, before beginning, “I’m sure you all know where I’ve been these past months, yeah?”

When met with nods, he continues, “Yeah, okay, well, this place, it’s called The Sanctuary. It’s this place, thousands and thousands of people probably. They all have magic.” He hears a couple groans or light sounds of disgust, but he continues. “Well, maybe except for ten or so people. And I’ve been talking to all of them. Interacting with them for almost a year now.” 

Dean pauses, thinking through the words sticking on his tongue, on the roof of his mouth, chewy and thick, but impossible to swallow down.

“I know what you’re all going to say. I’m _contaminated_ . I’m _ruined_ , _fucked in the head_ .” He laughs. “Well, I’ve been hearing that for years. Get in line. Guys, these people aren’t demons. They’re not monsters. They’re not evil. They’re _people_. It took me a long time to realize that. Longer than it should have, but I did in the end. They have feelings. They’re solid, emotional people and they’re being repressed. Pushed into the ground.”

Direction change.

“When I was five years old, a gun was shoved into my hand.” Dean’s eyes lift, and he meets eyes with the captain. His father. The other hands on that gun. “‘Dean,’ my father’s voice said, ‘one of those _monsters_ killed your mother. You ever see one of those? You shoot it between the eyes without a moment’s thought.’” Dean mocks in a low voice, almost a growl. “My mom died when I was four year old. A pyrokinetic- a demon, a fire thrower, as you guys call them- set our house on fire. We still don’t know why, he wouldn’t talk when we caught him, but it doesn’t matter. He was executed within the month.” Dean sucks on the inside of his teeth. “We’re taught from babies, from children, that people who have abilities that edge on unnatural are monsters. We’re taught that they’re second class citizens- hell, we’re taught that they’re not citizens at all. That they deserve death for doing nothing but existing! Why? There’s no point, really, it makes no sense. We’re going backwards. We’re not on the right side of history, you know? And more important, we’re hurting _people_ . _Human beings._ ” Dean clears his throat, and he watches his father’s face turn purple with pure, unadulterated rage. Among the crowd, though, it seems like… maybe he’s touched some hands. Maybe someone’s agreeing with him.

He can’t stop now.

“They’re all so kind, so caring. I’ve witnessed more vulnerabilities from them in these few months than I have from most of you in, god, _how long_ have I worked here? You call them monsters, but they’re more human than lots of people ever will be.

“And what did we get into this job for? I don’t know about any of you, but I was forced into this job. ‘The Family Business,’ ya know? ‘Dean, you’re going to grow up to be just like your ol’ man.’ ‘Dean, so young and already so talented with that gun of yours.’ ‘Dean, so smart, so sharp. You’ll be amazing at hunting those monsters.’” Dean scoffs. “I was forced to be here, but I don’t do it to hunt… _monsters_ . Guys, I’m here to _help people_. That’s what I do. That’s what I want to do. Hell, that’s the only reason I’m still here. And there was a time I believed that the best way to save everyone was to get all people with magic off the street. And when they were out of my hands, well… they were out of my hands.” Dean sighs. “I’m going to regret all the people I sent off without a second thought for the rest of my life.”

Dean closes his eyes, and takes in a deep breath. 

“But I am _not_ going to let you take down The Sanctuary.”

Immediately, outbursts break out. People even step forward. His father’s nails are digging into his biceps, and even Bobby looks upset. Confused, maybe. Not angry though. Maybe that’s a good sign.

“Look, I know. I understand. The motherload. I was the lead on the case, I _know._ But these are people. They need a home. You can’t send them to a facility, you can’t just kill them, you can’t squeeze them in a little box and forget about them. They deserve to be treated well, and again, they deserve a home. I’m not asking you for much; In fact, I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m asking you to not go through with the raid.

“I know you guys have some… some _heart_ in you, right? Some of you were just raised in it, and I was too, but you have to understand. If you could meet them, you would… you’d understand. There’s a telepath boy who just likes to cook and read. His name’s Kevin, and while he’s a little bitch, he’s really very kind. And honest to a fault. There’s a man with the power of deception, and he’s an _asshole_ , but he comes from the street. He manages to flirt with me at any turn. He hardly uses his powers anymore, but he used to. His name’s Crowley. He’s the one actually named after a demon, and yet he’s still kind and true. Deep, deep, deep down, but it’s there.

“There’s a sweet, sweet man. He’s a dentist, actually. He’s skinny as a twig and loves hugs, and he deserves to feel the sun on his face, but,” Dean taps his front teeth, “he has fangs. He’d get taken to a reservation so fast your head would spin. His name’s Garth, and his smile can brighten up a room. I’ve seen it make people’s whole day better. 

“There’s a girl, too. Her name’s Charlie, and she is a hell of a bitch. I love her, I really do, but she can be terrible sometimes.” Dean laughs. “She’s an empath. She feels everyone’s feelings. Everything you feel, she feels. It all hits her times one thousand, and she can still hold her head up and grin. She plays DND and she can hack into any system with fancy abbreviations out there. She’s wicked smart, in a way that I’ll never be. Probably in a way none of you will ever be, and I mean that with love, but she really is smart.

“And… this guy. He runs the place, actually. He’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. He has- He has _fire_ in his veins. He’s kind, and he cares so intensely about the people who live in The Sanctuary. He’ll go as far as he needs to to keep them all safe. And he spends time with them, too. You’d never think that the king would spend time with the peasants, right?” Dean laughs, eyes set on the ground. “But he’s not the king. He doesn’t see himself as that. He sees himself as a servant. As though it’s his whole meaning in life, like it’s just to care for these people. It’s broken him. And I’m sure it’s what will fix him too, because these people will do anything for him. And you know what? He could kill any of you with nothing more than a touch. A handshake, a brush of the hand, a bump of the shoulders, and if he wanted to, he could kill you. Hell, I’m sure he could do it without touching you if he tried. And he never would.”

Dean smiles, and his chest puffs out a little bit, his chin rising. 

“Never, not once in a million years, would Cas hurt any one of you unless you threatened his people. If you threatened him, he wouldn’t hurt you. But if you laid a hand on any of those people I mentioned before, even _Crowley_ , whom he despises, he would kill you without a second thought.”

Dean clears his throat, and bites his cheek, nodding. “So, I want to cancel the raid. I want to end this mission. Dump the files, delete the calls. I don’t want help, even. All I want is permission. And honestly, you know what’ll happen if you don’t cancel it? I’ll be waiting for you, at that door, with a gun in hand. And I love every single one of you, but if you hurt my people, I’m going to be awfully tempted to put a bullet between your eyes.”

Eyebrows simultaneously rise as people see the stern look on Dean’s face. “I understand if I’m fired, arrested, whatever. I get it. But… In this life, you have to choose something to stand for. You have to choose a line to draw. And this is mine. This is what I choose, and I’ll die for it.”

The room goes quiet. A deadly silence, before Dean clears his throat. 

“Which of you are with me?” Dean asks, his stance proud and tall. He puts on a mask that screams confident, and sure of himself. 

He’s neither of those things.

Slowly, Benny raises his hand. A smile rests on the man’s face, before he says, “I’m with you, Dean.”

Hand after hand raises, and Dean’s chest swells. Even Jody and Donna, who aren’t in his department, raise their hands.

Dean can’t help but grin, but it’s wiped away when the Captain speaks up.

Dean doesn’t even get a chance to hear him. John is making his way to Dean with a hand raised, but Jody and Donna are between him and Dean within moments.

Donna grabs John’s wrist, and Jody places a hand on his chest.

“If you take another step, Winchester, so help me-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girls!! My girls!!


	18. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The confrontation at the police station continues, but the stakes only rise as Charlie and Dean finally leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s kill John Winchester <3

Jody and Donna are strong. Dean knows that.

And yet, that knowledge doesn’t keep his heart from leaping out of his chest and his stomach from falling to the floor when he sees his father coming at him with a fire under his feet. He visibly flinches and god, he hates himself for it.

“You listen to me, Boy, you can’t j-“ John is shoved back away from Dean as he raises his arm, and Dean is so grateful for Jody and Donna, before John is right in his face.

Dean feels so  _ small. _

Short, weak, frail.

He’s a child again, the perfect height to stare down a leather belt.

“I taught you better than this! I  _ raised _ you better than this! And now you’re siding with monsters?” John’s face is red with pure rage, and it appears he has his blinders on from the rest of the room, despite a heavy hand on his chest, pushing him back again.

Dean goes to shake his head, to square his shoulders, but John throws up his hand and takes a step forward, and Dean flinches again.

_ Fuck _ .

“Stop this bullshit and stand down! You know  _ damn _ well what I can do to you!” He can feel John’s spit on his cheek, he can practically feel the angered flames in his eyes, and Dean squeezes his own shut.

_ Yes, sir. _

_ Yes, sir. _

_ Yes, sir. _

You would never hear him utter this phrase, not once, but his life flashes before his eyes in vivid memories of blind obedience. Nothing but  _ yes, okay, of course. _

That’s why he’s here, after all.

That’s why he’s a cop.

That’s why he betrayed Cas.

That’s why he, Dean Winchester, has always been one of the real monsters.

So when he stutters his way into a “Y-Yes sir,” he doesn’t make it halfway through the first word.

He looks around him.

These people are counting on him.

To stand his ground.

To fight for what he believes in.

So when he says, “Y-Ye…” The whole world goes quiet.

“No.”

Dean’s holding his breath, and the entire world really is still. No one moves except his and his father’s heaving chests. When John begins to struggle, though, Dean clenches his hand into a fist, before making perfect and direct contact with the side of his jaw.

Gasps erupt from the crowd, but Dean doesn’t really notice, as he’s quick to a second blow, directly into John’s stomach, before stepping back, shaking his head at his father, who’s bent over and clutching his stomach.

“You’re pathetic.” Dean spits out around the bile in his throat, still screaming at him.

_ This isn’t okay. _

_ You’re wrong. _

_ You’re going to get beaten for this later. _

_ This won’t last. _

_ You’ll come crawling back. _

But he swallows it down. 

“Can one of you get him out of our way?” He asks, tone kind again as he looks to the crowd. “He’s no help to us.” Dean says, having to force his gaze away from the slumped man before him.

Donna happily volunteers, thank god, and Jody helps her drag John off to… wherever.

Dean’s not sure he wants to know.

* * *

“So you’ll give me the files?”

“Yeah,” Benny says, shrugging, “And the transcripts for our calls. Do as you wish with them, I don’t really care. Although I suggest a good bonfire. That’ll do the trick.”

Dean laughs, nodding. “I’m sure it will.”

The air between them suddenly hangs still, before Benny asks a ( _ the _ ) golden question. “Are you going to stay there? At The Sanctuary?”

Dean pauses, considering, before nodding firmly. “If they’ll take me.”

Benny stares at Dean a moment, before mumbling, “Wow, man… You’ve changed.”

“Yeah.” Dean runs his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah, I really have.”

“Can I tell you something?”

Dean tilts his head in a sort of beckoning gesture, but it makes him laugh. 

It reminds him of Cas.

Oh, how his heart aches. 

“Yeah, man, what’s up?” 

Benny shoots a glance around, as he runs the tip of his tongue over the front of his gums, before looking back at Dean.

Before Dean even sees, before anything happens, Dean knows.

Benny lifts up the front of his lips, and small, shark-like fangs slide into place.

He’s not even looking at Dean. In fact, his eyes are set in a sharp gaze at a far wall.

Dean gasps. He can’t help it.

“Benny, you-”   
“Yeah yeah, I know. Get over yourself.” Benny says quickly, letting go of his lip and, Dean imagines, allowing his fangs to slide back into place.

Dean lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You know, you can come with me, man. It’s safer there.”

“Nothin’s changed, Deano. I belong in the real world. That’s all. Just thought you should know.” Benny raises his eyebrows, shrugging, and Dean can’t help but smile and nod. 

“The files?” Dean asks, and Benny nods, clearing his throat gruffly and sifting through an old file cabinet.

“Why’d you keep them in here?” Dean asks, running his finger along the top of the cabinet, before turning his hand up and blowing the dust off.

“Kept it at my desk and people kept asking about it. Kept it in the new files and people kept looking at it.” Benny says, pulling out the thick Manila folder before continuing with, “it’s safest here.”

Dean considers for a moment, before shrugging and nodding. “I guess.” Dean takes the folder, flipping through it for a second. “Are all the online files deleted?” 

“I put Jody on it.”

“Thanks, man.” Dean says, allowing his sincerity to bleed through his eyes.

Benny brushes it off with a wave of his hand, but he wears a smile in return that very clearly says what he didn’t.

* * *

Dean makes his way out of the file room, the light tan folder tucked up underneath his arm. 

No one’s working. 

They’re all standing around, talking, but no one’s returned to their work.

Dean actually breaks into a grin, and he watches the familiar group of people for a few minutes, before a heavy, warm hand lands on his shoulder.

“Good job, son.” A gruff voice says from beside him, and Dean doesn’t even have to turn his head before his lips begin to upturn. 

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean turns to face the older man.

“I can’t say I… believe in everything you’re saying, boy, but… I’m behind you, alright,” Bobby holds Dean’s gaze, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

Dean nods, the inaudible ‘thank you’ stuck in his eyes.

Bobby returns the gesture, before walking away, calling back, “I’ll deal with your old man.”

Dean’s smile grows, but he knows he’s not meant to say anything back, so he purses his lips together and looks for the next task.

* * *

He doesn’t quite make it to another task, because Charlie walks up to him, smiling. Her eyes shoot around the room, as though following a never ending bouncing ball. Despite this, her eyes keep returning to him, and when they do, her smile really is genuine.

It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Dean, I want to take you back to the Sanctuary. You ready to go?”

“Charlie, you don’t have to-”

“No, Dean, shut up. I want to. You ready to go?”

“They never sent Alfie to lockup. He’s still here, I told them to keep him ‘till trial, I’m gonna… we’re gonna get him out.”

“You’re… we’re…  _ what?” _

* * *

“Charlie, it’s gonna be fine, we just need to-“

“Dean, you just flirted way too aggressively with Alfie’s arresting officer and took his keys.” Charlie cuts him off, jogging to keep up with his long legs making their way through the hallways as fast as possible (at an inconspicuous rate, of course). 

“And?”

“I think you rely on sex for your undercover shit  _ way  _ too much, Dean.”

His legs stop and he looks back at her, glaring. He shrugs, saying, “What about it? I’m good at it. You could never,” before turning around, leaving her in his proverbial dust as he makes his way to the holding area.

* * *

“Charlie? Dean? What are you guys doing here- You’re not supposed to come after me?” Alfie steps forward in his cell, looking out to the side with wide eyes. 

“Dean’s a cop, he was undercover, he’s with us now, long story, we’ll tell you in the- fucking awesome by the way- car.” Charlie says, slipping the ring of keys from Dean’s pocket and smirking at him smugly for a moment, before turning to work on Alfie’s cell.

“Charlie, let me, I know how- oh.” He mutters as the cell door swings open.

Charlie’s self satisfied smirk grows, before growing into a sweet smile. “It’ll be good to have you back, Alfie. I’m so sorry.” She says, pulling Alfie into a tight hug, before tugging him out of the cell.

“No worries, Charlie, it was all… it was my fault. I freaked. Let’s go.” Alfie says, and the three of them, united and strong, walk out of the holding area and out through the doors of the police station.

Dean prays to God it’s for the last time.

* * *

Dean spins the keys to Baby on his index finger, running his tongue over the front of his teeth. 

He glances at Charlie, his feet frozen in their spots.

She raises her eyebrows at him, in silent question, and he sighs.

“ _ Fine. _ ” He says, tossing her the keys.

Her eyes widen and she grins, even bouncing on her toes, before running to the driver’s side of the car.

“Charlie, I swear to all that’s holy, I will kill you in cold blood if you hurt my baby.”

“ _ Relax _ , Dean, it’ll be fine! I’m a good driver.”

“Charlie…”

“Chill.” She says, sliding into the driver’s seat, beckoning him to join her.

Dean gets in the passenger seat, Alfie in the back.

Charlie starts up the car, adjusting her mirrors and settling in. 

“Dean, I’m… you know, I’m proud of you.” Charlie says, absolutely disgustingly.

She sounds so sincere, so sweet.

Ew.

“Shut up, Charlie.” Dean says, but he can’t help the smile that crawls its way into his face.

“M-m.” Charlie grins. “I knew I was right about you.”

“You-“

“Shut up, Dean.” She says mockingly, and the world falls to silence, if only for but a moment.

Alfie is in the back, curled up and sleeping as though he hasn’t in weeks.

Maybe he really hasn’t.

* * *

Dean watches as the world passes before his eyes. Charlie really is a decent driver, and every once in a while, he throws a nitpick her way, but she’s really taking care of his Baby. So, he takes a second, just a second, to clear his mind.

God, he just needs a  _ second _ .

His mind won’t let him be.

He already can’t relax, he already can’t sit still. 

But all he can think about, more than anything, is the road before them. So he focuses on that.

Just that.

Just the road.

Not the road after it.

Not where the road leads.

_ Just _ the road.

And he loves Charlie, he does, but if she could refrain from opening that mouth of hers, his attempts would be much easier.

“So, Dean, um…” she murmurs, and Dean squeezes his eyes shut in preparation. 

“Dean, what are you gonna say to Cas?”

_ Oh god. _

_ He’s going to hate you. _

_ Tell her to turn the car around. _

_ What could you possibly say? _

_ He’s not going to take you back. _

_ He’s gonna kick you out. _

_ He’s gonna kill you. _

_ Idiot. _

_ Go home. _

_ You got the case canceled, you got Alfie out. _

_ Go home, open a bottle of whiskey, and forget it. _

_ You don’t have a chance. _

_ Face the consequences. _

_ You’ve never been so lucky. _

_ Why would he take you back? _

_ You wouldn’t take you back. _

_ Turn around. _

_ Turn around. _

_ Turn around. _

_ What’s the point anymore? _

“Hey, hey, Dean! Breathe. Relax, it’s okay.” 

The car is stopped.

Dean’s hands are wet, his hair is too.

His face prickles with the icy air surrounding him.

It’s  _ summer _ .

Charlie’s hand is on his arm, and he can feel the air rapidly entering and leaving his lungs.

The one thing he doesn’t feel, doesn’t hear?

He can’t hear his own thoughts, and somehow that’s the scariest of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! That is the last ~2,000 word chapter! The next two are over 3,000, so come prepared! Thanks for reading, and I’d love to hear your thoughts!   
> I must add, though: Give Mads, my beta, all the credit for this one! They plotted the entire chapter, and it was titled as such: The Mads Chapter. So, give @supernatural-gay-undertones all the love over on tumblr, or here!


	19. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Charlie, and Alfie arrive at The Sanctuary. But what lies before them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Welcome to my absolute favorite chapter in this whole fic. It's the longest one, too, at 4,002 words! Enjoy!

Dean can’t even go in.

Charlie walks into the rickety old house with Alfie, and Dean closes his eyes. 

The world paints itself around him.

His view bounces slightly with the light footsteps he knows Charlie to take. He- She glances to her side, and Alfie is there. He’s smiling. He’s happy to be home. He hadn’t smiled the whole time he was with Dean, but now that he’s alone with Charlie, he dares to.

He watches through Charlie’s eyes as she makes her way down through the house and into The Sanctuary.

As she steps in, the entire room goes quiet, before someone- Balthazar, maybe? - someone yells, “Alfie!” And the whole place is alight. Charlie walks down, and people start asking about Dean.

Their expressions set, they ask what happened to him, expecting- no, hoping- hoping for the worst. Hoping she found him dead in a ditch, rotting in jail,  _ something _ other than waiting outside by his car.

He watches her walk through the halls, avoiding the questions. He trusts her too much, he knows, but he doesn’t think she wants him dead.

She makes her way to the door.  _ The door. _ The one he’s far too acquainted with.

His chest aches deeply as he thinks about that.

That invasion of privacy.

He shoves that down in favor of watching as Charlie knocks gently, before opening the door.

He sees Cas, sitting down on the armchair in the corner of his room, reading peacefully.

“Cas? Hey, um, so…”

“Charlie?” Cas sets down his book and stands up. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.”

“Cas, I told you I was going to Dean.”

“Charlie, you didn’t really- You didn’t bring him here, did you?”

“Well- yeah! I mean, he deserves to explain himself, right? He- He’s outside.”

“Charlie, he can’t be here! I told that bastard I’d kill him before I let hi-“

“Dean? You can come in now.” Charlie’s voice breaks Dean from the harsh image in front of his eyes, and he opens them slowly, feeling his own chest heave.

His palms and the back of his neck are sweating again, but Charlie doesn’t acknowledge it with anything but a tilt of her head and a light smile.

Dean sucks in a long breath and nods, shrugging off the tension in his shoulders and taking a few steps forward. “Alfie stay in there?” He asks.

“Yeah. I think he needed a break, you know? I get it. He’s probably going to sleep for five more days.”

Dean nods. “Kid deserves the sleep.”

Charlie returns the gesture, before waving Dean toward her as she steps back into the old house.

The walk is silent, and Dean can feel the thick goo of the air between them in his chest and his stomach, filling him up. Bile threatens to rise in his throat as their steps near the trap door. His lungs contract and never give out, as his ribcage squeezes his chest. He’s not moving, not really. His mind is in the car. His legs simply move on autopilot, slow, tentative. His face does the same, set in stone like that of a soldier who still has missiles firing behind his eyes.

As he lowers himself into the hallway, his footfalls get heavier. His muscles contract and release under his skin, and his bones shake. He can’t remember ever feeling like this. He’s stared down the barrel of a cocked gun, and he’s never felt this close to death. 

And yet, even this close to death, Dean Winchester has never wanted to make it out alive more than he does in this very moment.

Charlie opens the door to The Sanctuary, stepping inside. He can feel the fear, the nerves, he can feel it dripping off of her.

God, maybe it’s his.

Empaths are so fucking confusing.

If it is his, he should tone it down.

_ Shove it down, Dean. Get rid of it. Nobody wants to see that shit anyways. _

_ Be a man about it, for Christ’s sake. _

Dean shakes his head, sucking in a deep breath.

_ No.  _

_ No. _

_ No. _

_ No. _

He repeats the singular word in his head like a mantra, shoving down the little voice in his head instead.

The little voice that, now that he thinks about it, happens to sound a lot like his father’s.

Not anymore, though. Dean’s own voice is strong and prominent there now. It can only force out one word, but  _ No _ is enough.

So finally, Dean steps through. 

He steps over the threshold, slow, deliberate, and careful.

His ears are ringing in his head and they refuse to take in sound.

He’s seeing stars for a moment, as his eyes fear they may soon be seeing pitchforks and torches, ready to drive him out of town.

When he comes to, all he sees are a hundred, a thousand eyes staring back. And he hears  _ nothing _ . 

The room is dead silent. 

That is, until a kid, three kids, five, yell “Dean!”

They run up towards him, but gets quickly pulled back by various parents, and suddenly the eyes fixated on him are  _ furious _ . 

Yelling erupts, almost everyone in the room coming to Cas’ immediate defense. It’s really quite… beautiful. 

The noise gets to be too much, and Dean has to squeeze his eyes shut as he turns his head away. He’s certain one of the telepaths is going to just… pop his head off at this point.

He’s surprised as all hell that Gabriel hasn’t flown up and stabbed him already.

The yelling continues and Dean feels like a child, flinching away from it.

It doesn’t continue long, though.

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up and let him talk!” Charlie yells from beside him, hands gripped on the iron bars before them.

Dean looks at her, and he’s sure she can feel his gratitude, so he clears his throat and throws his bravado back on.

“Hey, um… Hey guys.” He starts, unsure of exactly where to go from there.

Well… the truth works.

“Usually I have, uh, some obscure movie reference to pull out of my sleeve. Something that works for the moment. Something I can use to avoid wording shit for myself, you know? It’s just easier. Coming out of a fictional character’s mouth. You say what they say, and… It covers it.” Dean clears his throat again, before letting out a bitter laugh. “Anyone know the movie where that one guy goes undercover to a secret organization, only to discover that the thing he’s been told is monstrous his whole life is really… beautiful and flawless? Only to get kicked out by… well, yeah. And then returns, and tries to apologize for the almost  _ year _ of… douchebaggery.”

Dean sees a couple smiles erupt, and it actually makes a small, broken one appear on his own lips as well. “Yeah, me neither. So… I don’t have some memorized speech from a movie on hand for this one. And, I’m sorry, because nothing I could say, even if I went on for years and years, which I pretty much already have, nothing would, um, nothing is going to change what I did. 

“So all I’m saying is I’m sorry. I don’t even ask your forgiveness. Your acceptance. I’m just saying that I’m sorry. Because that’s all I  _ can _ say. It’s all I know how to say. And I mean it, I do. Down to every inch of my being. I just… I don’t know how to say it all. Because even with centuries of time, even if I spoke forever, I don’t think I could ever get it out. So... “ Dean sucks in one, long, aching breath, and with it, says, “I am sorry.” 

The sentence has so much finality, and he hopes they understand that, because his whole being aches now. His shoulders are lighter, yes, but infinitely heavier, because there’s still one person, one last person, who he hasn’t apologized to.

The worst of them.

And the absolute best of them.

* * *

“Cas is gonna be in his room, Dean.” Charlie whispers as she and Dean weave their way through the crowd. Usually Dean would be the big one, protecting his smaller friends from the push and pull of the tide, but now he’s small, he’s got the wall in front of him in the form of a small, fiery redhead.

“Thank you.” He says back, offering a smile. 

Some people, as Dean makes his way through, put a hand on his shoulder. Some of them glare, and some smile. He’s getting a lot of different, mixed messages, but mixed is better than solid hatred. He recognizes the empaths and the telepaths as the more generally kind ones, and he tries to push his ever-present gratitude through the momentary connections he makes with them.

When they reach the hallway that houses Cas’ room, Charlie puts a hand on Dean’s back, offering him a light smile. “It’ll be okay. I… I’m gonna go do damage control in the main room.”

“Alright.” Dean flattens his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Good luck.”

Charlie offers a grin, nodding and turning on her heel. She walks away, as though she hasn’t a care in the world.

God, he could only dream.

* * *

Dean’s every footstep reverberates through the hall. He can feel them in his muscles, down to the marrow of his bones. It sends shakes and chills up his spine, and sends his hands twitching and fiddling with each other. 

He forces his hands down, though, and his back straight. He walks like a soldier, and hopes it will turn him into one.

He watches his fist shake as it rises to knock on Cas’ door, and he has to swallow down all the thick, oozing fear in his throat.

_ You can do this. _

_ You can. _

Dean shoves out a long breath from his lungs, before he knocks. 

_ One. Two. Three. _

_ One… Two. _

There’s no going back.

He can’t stop it now.

He can’t run, he can’t move.

He’s frozen.

What feels like years, decades, centuries later, he clears his throat, and he calls through the door, 

“Cas? Uh, hey, it’s me- it’s Dean, I just, I wanted to- Charlie brought me back. And Alfie, um, we got Alfie out. So he’s back. Uh… you know what, I’m just gonna- I’m sure you don’t want me here, I’ll-“ 

“Dean?” The door swings open suddenly, and Cas is standing there.

God, he looks  _ terrible _ .

He’s wrapped in a blue robe, and there are dark bags under his eyes, and he looks sick, and sad, and god, Dean’s chest aches at the sight.

And yet, Cas is still incredibly beautiful. Perfect. And that makes Dean’s chest ache just as much.

“Dean, you… Alfie’s back? Charlie? She- I’m surprised she didn’t… wow, um…” Cas swallows a hard lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, that makes no sense. Dean,  _ what are you doing here _ ?”

This is where it starts. This is where it ends.

Cas is going to yell at him. Cas is going to yell at him, tell Dean he hates him, and then he’s going to kill him.

This is it. 

“I’m sorry, Cas- Castiel,” Dean forces out the other man’s full name, but it comes out broken and choked, “I’m gonna go home. I know you said… I know you don’t want me here.”

“No, Dean.” Cas says quickly. “Wait, I… come in.” 

Dean’s chest is heaving suddenly, and he can’t breathe, but the ache in his lungs and the ache in his chest turns comfortable. They turn warm, and safe, and they’re special in a way that only comes from being with Cas.

Dean steps forward and Cas steps back into the room, and the warmth, the smell, the feeling of the room is familiar. This whole place, it’s familiar. 

It’s  _ home. _

What a simple, complicated thought.

“Cas, I just, the case is done. I’ve got the files outside. I’ll give them to Charlie, you’ll have them all. Everything the police have. Had. Alfie’s back, he’s in his room, so he’s okay. Charlie, she… she didn’t have to come after me. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me here. I know… I know I shouldn’t be here. Thank you for… letting me get this far. I… I just wanna tell you something. And… I’ll be grateful that you even listened. Please?” 

“Dean, I’ll listen to you. Just. Please, come here. I want to apologize.”

“You’re… no. You’re not allowed to apologize. Cas, you did nothing wrong.”

“Dean, I-“

“M-m. I wanna let you talk, I could listen to you talk all day, but I am  _ this _ close to getting on my knees. I’m gonna apologize first if it’s the death of me, okay?”

Cas sucks on the inside of his teeth, before he sits down, looking up at Dean.

“Okay. Yeah.” Dean murmurs to himself, before taking in one, long breath. “Alright. So, um… Cas.” Dean says, and he moves to sit down next to Cas, before deciding that standing is probably better.

“Cas.” He starts again, before biting his lip. He lets out a huff of a breath, smiling bitterly. “Cas, I’m so sorry. I don’t really… I’ve always been shit with words. I can… talk for days on the light things, I guess. You know me, I could write an essay; But only on the history of old western movies.” He laughs quietly, looking down at his feet. He feels a hand on his wrist, and Cas is pulling him closer to sit down on the bed. After Cas takes his hand back, they’re not touching, but Dean still feels the phantom fire of Cas’ touch on his wrist.

“So I’m sorry if this isn’t enough, if it’s not… everything you need. I know it’s not much. But Cas, I…” Dean lets out a soft chuckle, before shifting to the floor, kneeling in front of Cas with a gentle smile. “I am so, so sorry. I… I made the world’s biggest mistake. You’re… you’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re kind, and you’re caring, and you take care of all these wonderful people. And you’re smart, and special. You are the most perfect human being. You carry so much on your shoulders, in your hands, in your bones, in your- your  _ soul _ . And Cas,  _ Castiel _ , I am so sorry I added to the weight on your shoulders. It was so cruel of me, and I’m never going to be able to fix that, I think. But, god, I wanna fix it. I want to fix this. I want to stay. I want to stay, and I want to stay with you. I know it might take a while. Hell, I know you might never want to be with me… like that, I know you might never want to be with me again, but… if you want to try, I want to try.” Dean sucks in a breath after he’s done, before closing his eyes and ducking his head. His forehead touches Cas’ knee, and he speaks in a prayer. 

“I love you.” Dean chokes out. “Cas,  _ I love you.”  _

The first two are quiet, coughed out and terrified. 

The rest, the next ten, the next hundred, spill out like a wave.

Dean’s sobbed declarations of love fill the small room, and near the end of his faux-prayer, his breathing is heavy into Cas’ knee. 

“I…” Dean chokes out, but he lets out a sigh instead, pressing a kiss to Cas’ knee. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Dean…” A broken, gravel-laden voice comes from above him, and Dean’s head slowly tilts up. As it does, he realizes there are two gentle, soothing hands in his hair, which just add to the beautiful, heart wracking scene before him.

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas croaks out. His cheeks are tear stained, and tinted a faint pink. His chest is heaving and trembling, and the sight is utterly heartbreaking.

“Dean, I’m sorry-“ Cas starts, shifting his hand and gently cupping Dean’s cheek. Dean, of course, can’t help but lean into it.

“Dean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have… I should have listened to you.” Cas whispers. “I just get so… I’m so… these are my people, but Dean, you’re… you’re my person too.”

Dean smiles lightly, tilting his head and kissing Cas’ palm. “Cas, you did nothing wrong. It was my fault. Please, don’t… don’t blame yourself.”

“Dean, can we just… Can we be even? Clean slate. I mean… the slate can’t ever be fully clean, there’s always going to be… something. But Dean, we can be… I want to try. I want to try too.”

There are tears in Dean’s eyes, and Cas’ too, but they both break out in gentle smiles. “Thank you, Cas… I mean,  _ thank you. _ I don’t think I’ve ever really… God, Cas, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas whispers, brushing his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone. Dean closes his eyes- he can’t help it- and he breathes in the moment, set on never letting it go.

* * *

When Dean wakes up beside Cas, it’s the happiest he’s ever been. It used to bring a grin to his face, but now? Life feels like a never-ending dream. His heart skips happily in his chest, and he curls up close to Cas. They’re tangled around each other, their legs and arms intertwined. Not that Dean would ever want to, but escape? Impossible.

Again, not that Dean would ever want to escape.

Dean and Cas come to consciousness at generally the same time.

It might be Dean’s fault, he starts peppering kisses into Cas’ neck the second he wakes up. He whispers the sore words from last night over and over and over again, until he’s sure they’re engrained in Cas’ skin.

As Cas wakes up, the grin on his face slowly grows, and Dean pulls away from Cas’ neck. “Hey, you know what, if anyone ever asks? I don’t do this shit.” Dean says, eyebrows raised. 

“Dean, your attempt at hypermasculinity fools absolutely no one.” Cas says, before pausing, and amending with, “Except Claire. But that’s because she’s a lesbian and she wants to be you.”

Dean laughs. 

Because he can.

Because Cas is safe, and he’s there, and he’s talking to Dean.

“I guess.” He murmurs, returning to Cas’ chest and pressing kisses into it.

Time flies by, and drags on. Dean doesn’t know how long it’s been.

The gentle rushing of time around him is broken with Cas’ voice. “Dean, it’s not… it can’t just disappear, okay? If we can’t trust each other, or talk about it…”

“I know, Cas.” Dean says, and he sits up, pulling Cas with him.

The two sit on their knees across from each other, their hands intertwined. 

“I know. And you know I’m… I’m bad at this, I am. But I want to try. If that means being… distanced, being friends for a while, I understand. I’m ready to do whatever you need me to.”

Cas smiles, pulling Dean’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “Thank you Dean. That means more than you know. I do… I want to be with you. But I think we should take things slow. Well, slower.”

“Okay.” Dean says, before glancing at the bed below them then back to Cas. “I don’t know, I think we’re moving pretty quickly.” He speaks forward, smirking, and Cas shakes his head, leaning back jokingly.

“Emotionally slow. Physically? Well, we’re this far. Although the two do go hand in hand.”

“Sometimes.”

“Generally.” Cas counters.

“Sure.” Dean grins, leaning forward and gently pressing a kiss to Cas’ lips. “Thank you, Cas. For… for everything. All of it. For taking me back.”

“Of course, Dean. Thank you for coming back.” Cas replies gently, reaching up to thread a hand through Dean’s hair.

“Cas… Of course. I wanted to. Charlie helped, of course. Dragging my ass out of bed,” Dean shrugs, before sighing. “Actually, she did most of it.” He amends, with a soft laugh.

“Well I’m glad she did. Besides, you did most of the work when you got here. And at the station too, I assume.”

“Yeah.” Dean smiles lightly. “They were all on my side. Well… the ones that matter.”

“I’m glad, Dean. Not only for me, for The Sanctuary, but… I think that was good for you.”

“It was. I’m glad I did it. The bastards needed to know what was going on.”

“Yeah.” Cas murmurs, now perfectly content to watch as his hand returns to Dean’s, smiling.

“I missed you.” Cas mumbles. “I was angry, but… I did miss you.”

“I missed you too, Cas.” Dean says, before clearing his throat. “Breakfast? I can…” He glances at the door, wincing, “I can try to make it to the cafeteria.” He chuckles lightly.

“Oh, I’ll just…” Cas shifts a bit in his spot, before leaning backwards and reaching for something on his nightstand.

Dean raises his eyebrows, and when Cas straightens his back again, Dean’s smirking and leaning forward. 

Cas furrows his brow, then glances down at his bare chest. “Shut up.” He mutters, shoving Dean’s shoulder and holding up the thing he had literally bent backwards to retrieve.

A little button, with a clip on the back of it, sits in his hand. Dean recognizes it as the one Cas wears on his tie, or the neckline of his shirt.

“Is that-“ Dean starts, but Cas presses a finger to his lips as he turns a dial on the side of the button, before pressing it. 

“Hey,  _ Charlie? _ ” Cas starts, his eyes on the ceiling and his grin bright as he forces it through his voice in a sweet tone.

Charlie laughs on the other end, but asks, “Yeah? What do you need, Cas?”

“Could you bring me two plates of breakfast?” Cas asks, eyes locked with Dean’s. “I’m still on lockdown, so I simply cannot leave.”

“Yuh hu- wait, two?”

Cas presses the button simply to laugh, before setting down the walkie talkie button, turning the dial again. 

“She’s gonna grab it and run, so it should be about fifteen minutes.” He tells Dean, grinning.

“God, I love you.” Dean laughs, leaning forward and kissing Cas gently.

Cas laughs into Dean’s lips, leaning in towards him as he does so. “I know. I love you too, Dean.”

Dean huffs out a laugh, getting up fully on his knees and pulling Cas up with him. He wraps his arms around Cas’ waist, tugging him close and kissing him deeply. Their lips meld together in a slow, gentle yet passionate wrestle. Their noses bump occasionally, and on one unfortunate occasion their teeth clash, but they both laugh through it. 

Cas pushes Dean down, and they lay side by side for just a moment, before leaning into a long, slow kiss once again. That’s how Charlie finds them, and she gags mockingly, shaking her head. “Guys, you can’t just ask me in here and then get all… that on me.” She laughs, setting down the plates and holding up her hands.

Dean and Cas both break out in laughter then, and separate, sitting up and grinning at her. Dean knows his own smile is helpless and far too wide for his face, but when he looks over and sees Cas doing the same, it doesn’t feel near as embarrassing to him.

Charlie leaves them to their devices, but not without receiving promises for conversations with the both of them.

Dean gets up to grab the food off of a dresser Charlie had set it on, and he returns to bed, setting the plates on the nightstand closest to him. 

They don’t get to their food until it’s cold, but that’s alright.

Dean savors every last moment with Cas. 

He drinks in the taste of his lips, he memorizes the texture of his skin. 

It’s not their first kiss, no.

The point is, to Dean, that it won’t be their last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's a wrap! The next chapter is a ~3,000 word epilogue and resolution. There are still some surprises there, don't get me wrong, so don't even think of leaving us now! (Not to mention, there will be a couple announcements over there, too!) Like I said, I'm very fond of this chapter, so feedback or commentary is much appreciated! I'd love to hear from you in any way I can, you know the drill <3


	20. Dean And Castiel - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end was always going to be their beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to cry. Enjoy.

Sammy’s healing. He’s doing good. Dean checks in on him every day, and he’s slowly coming to terms with who he is. Eileen is helping. She’s not a monster, so why would _he_ be?

He still has nightmares.

Dean requests a room beside Sam’s, and Cas allows it. Well, Cas allows it, because why wouldn’t he?

So Dean still helps his baby brother through nightmares, until Eileen takes over. Not only because she’s already in the room, but because she understands far more than anyone else involved could.

* * *

Cas is slowly getting better, slowly trusting Dean more and more. 

When he gets taken off room-arrest, he makes his rounds, slowly this time, to apologize to people around The Sanctuary. His behavior was unacceptable, he tells them. He even refuses to let Dean come along. Dean doesn’t need to see this, Cas believes, he feels guilty enough.

No one lets him get through his apology. 

He even gets a, “Cas, shut the fuck up,” from Balthazar.

No one’s letting him apologize because, well, they say he did nothing wrong.

He tries to argue, but generally it goes a little like this:

“Hello.”

“Hey, Cas! It’s good to see you out!”

“Yeah. I’m just, um… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened this past month or two, I’ve bee-”

“Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

It warms him down to his very core.

* * *

Dean’s clingy, he knows that. 

He clutches onto Cas at any given opportunity, wrapping his legs around Cas’ or holding both of his hands when it’s inconvenient.

Cas used to be that one, the one who always wanted to be around and with Dean.

But now Dean has to ask, make sure it’s okay, that he’s not pushing any boundaries.

He never is, of course.

Cas adores it.

* * *

Dean is getting easier to be around. At first- after the initial aftershock/afterglow of their getting back together- it was hard. It was scary, and tentative, and Cas could feel it from Dean too.

They were scared, both of them.

As time went on, though, Dean’s actions got more smooth. He moved easier around Cas, even started asking before doing things so as to ensure it was okay.

Cas slowly eased into the same thing. 

It’s taking time, they’re still progressing, but it’s getting better.

It’s even better than it was before, now. The slow progression comes with a tint of sincerity that Cas now realizes wasn’t there before.

But it’s here now, and Cas loves it.

He loves _Dean_.

* * *

Dean and Cas don’t sleep together for a while after Dean’s first night back.

Dean hasn’t been in long term relationships often, (well, ever) don’t get him wrong, but that is usually the absolute _opposite_ of how things go for him. 

He’s worried, so he asks Sam and receives a, 

“Ew, Dean, I do _not_ wanna hear about that.”

He asks Charlie, and gets,

“Dean, I love you, I do, but I’d rather not talk about my best friend’s sex life.”

He tries to explain it’s not _all_ about sex! He says, 

“Well, he’s not staying in the same room as me as much either. I’m just worried.”

Time goes on and Dean, on what little relationship experience he has, gets more and more worried.

And he remembers a conversation he and Cas had.

“Honesty,” Cas had said, “and just talking things out. That’s what we need to do, Dean. We just need to talk about things.”

So he goes to Cas.

* * *

“You’re… _what?_ ” Cas asks, and he can’t help it, he smiles.

“I’m worried that you don’t want to have sex with me anymore.” Dean whines stubbornly, his arms crossed over his chest. “We hardly sleep in the same room anymore, and we haven’t _slept together_ slept together since I came back. That was, what, two months ago?”

“Are you keeping track?”

“I _wasn’t_! Now I am.” Dean says, before sighing. Cas watches the tension leave Dean’s shoulders as Cas steps forward, taking Dean’s hands.

“I’ve been busy, Love. And forgive me, I know it’s implausible for you, but sex isn’t constantly on my mind. _Also_ , we’re still working through things. Neither of us should push things or force them into happening.” Cas gently cups Dean’s cheek, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. Before long, though, his sincere moment is over, and he’s tugging Dean backwards.

“However, we can make your concerns disappear, if you’d like.” He says with a grin. 

* * *

Dean and Cas really are on full swing back to normal after that. 

Well, new normal. The old normal? Yeah no, Dean’ll have to take a hard pass on that one.

Charlie is back to gagging and teasing them when they’re affectionate in public. Sam joins in now that he’s around, too.

Dean’ll sit in Cas’ lap, or vice versa, and it’s nice. Dean loves it, being close to Cas. There’s nothing underneath it, no ulterior motive. It’s being close, being intimate, being the annoying couple who sit on the same side of the booth, and being those things just for the sake of it.

Dean loves it, and he knows Cas does too.

* * *

So Cas, may or may not, happen to be touch starved.

Years, _years_ he went without touching anyone.

Nary a handshake, nevertheless a kiss, god forbid something _more_.

So he’s greedy. 

Cas never stops touching Dean. Whether it’s a brush of knuckles or pressing his entire body down on Dean’s, he can’t stop. 

Now that he knows Dean, for real.

Now that he trusts him.

Now that everything is a little more intimate, a little more real? 

Cas eats it up like an animal starved.

* * *

Claire is warming up to Dean, thank god. 

She hated him at first, for the same reason Charlie did. She’s an empath, like Charlie, so she just got bad feelings from him. But now that she’s getting the right kind from him, she smiles and interacts with him more. She takes him on her hunts, even. Kaia still doesn’t like him, so that makes Claire a little wary, but overall, they’re getting used to him, and even enjoying his being around.

And every time Claire greets him, he can’t help the grin that breaks his face.

* * *

Cas has no biological children.

Dean also has no biological children.

But they both have kids.

Claire started it, it’s her fault.

When Cas took her in, gave her his name, raised her, she became his daughter.

When Kaia joined the ranks, and started dating Claire, she became a daughter too. More like an in-law, sure, but she’s his daughter too.

Daniel has his aunt and uncle, but he looks up to Cas.

Kevin, too. Linda protects him with a passion and both Cas and Kevin adore and admire that. But Kevin, ever since he walked up to Cas and Charlie asking questions about this and that, Kevin’s been sticking around. And yeah, Cas considers him and loves him like a son.

Kelly is a single mom, about six months pregnant, and Cas takes care of her as though the child is his. (It’s not, but he has a couple sneaking suspicions.)

Cas is not a father, but he has children. 

And Dean has joined that flow perfectly, with ease and excellence.

Dean hunts with Claire.

Dean helps Kaia in the kitchen when it’s her shift.

Dean decked Michael for talking to Daniel with a less than pleasant tone.

Dean still happily talks to Kevin, and he’s getting used to Kevin’s telepathy that used to scare him so much.

He doesn’t do much with Kelly, but, well, the baby hasn’t been born yet. Cas can’t blame him.

Cas has kids, and now Dean does too.

* * *

Sitting at the top of Dean’s old, slightly crumpled (he got frustrated) page of notebook paper is a title.

 ~~Dean’s~~ ~~Cas’s~~ Dean’s and Cas’ Top 13 Zepp ~~??~~ Tra ~~c~~ xx

And that’s it. 

Nothing before, nothing after. 

There are small words on the edges, crossed out beginnings of titles. 

These should come rushing out of him, right? 

It’s Cas.

It’s been eleven months and 20 days since Dean came back, having called off the mission and the raid on The Sanctuary. Closed the case. And it’s been eleven months and 20 days since the day they decided would be their anniversary.

Problem with that is that the twelve month mark is edging a little too close. And this idea Dean has had is actually not working out near as well as he had wanted it to.

Dean speaks Zeppelin. He’s got it all down. The problem is that he can’t get it down to thirteen. And because of this, he can’t even start with one. 

So Dean closes his eyes, sucks in one long breath, and thinks. 

  1. Ramble On



Okay, so he’s got his favorite down. That wasn’t so hard. So start with the classics.

  1. Ramble On
  2. Stairway to Heaven
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying 
  5. Fool in the Rain



Five.

He’s got five.

He still needs eight.

He could cut it down?

No, no, thirteen is… right.

  1. Ramble On 
  2. Stairway to Heaven 
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying
  5. Fool in the Rain
  6. Going to California



It reminds him of his mom. She used to play it, and sing along, and he would dance with her in the kitchen. It’s been so long since he’s heard it, but he can still hear the tune echoing in the narrow caverns of his ears.

Cas. He needs to pick for Cas.

  1. Ramble On 
  2. Stairway to Heaven 
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying
  5. Fool in the Rain
  6. Going to California
  7. Thank You 
  8. Kashmir
  9. Whole Lotta Love



Dean underlines number nine twice. It was the very first song he played for Cas, and where this mixtape came from originally. How had he forgotten?

Well, he hadn’t.

The words, the titles, and… even the reasons came flooding into his mind, too quickly for Dean to even acknowledge them. He simply filed them away until he got there.

  1. Ramble On 
  2. Stairway to Heaven 
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying
  5. Fool in the Rain
  6. Going to California
  7. Thank You 
  8. Kashmir
  9. Whole Lotta Love
  10. Since I’ve Been Loving You Since I’ve Been Loving You



He knows what it really means, okay? He’s just choosing to interpret it differently.

  1. Ramble On 
  2. Stairway to Heaven 
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying
  5. Fool in the Rain
  6. Going to California
  7. Thank You 
  8. Kashmir
  9. Whole Lotta Love
  10. Since I’ve Been Loving You Since I’ve Been Loving You
  11. Good Times Bad Times
  12. Ten Years Gone



Dean may or may not be attempting to serenade his boyfriend with someone else’s voice.

Sam’s gonna give him so much shit for this.

  1. Ramble On 
  2. Stairway to Heaven 
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying
  5. Fool in the Rain
  6. Going to California
  7. Thank You 
  8. Kashmir
  9. Whole Lotta Love
  10. Since I’ve Been Loving You Since I’ve Been Loving You
  11. Good Times Bad Times
  12. Ten Years Gone



Dean sits in that uncomfortable library chair, and his knuckles go white on his pencil.

The last song… it needs to be perfect.

From Dean to Cas, about Dean and Cas, it needs to be the perfect way to end on a high note.

  1. Ramble On 
  2. Stairway to Heaven 
  3. What is and What Never Should Be 
  4. In My Time of Dying
  5. Fool in the Rain
  6. Going to California
  7. Thank You 
  8. Kashmir
  9. Whole Lotta Love
  10. Since I’ve Been Loving You Since I’ve Been Loving You
  11. Good Times Bad Times
  12. Ten Years Gone
  13. The Rain Song



* * *

Cas isn’t working too hard.

Really, he’s not. 

He wakes up late now, with Dean. Kevin or Kaia or Linda or whoever else keeps a plate for him and Dean warm. And sometimes Charlie even brings it to them. So he sleeps in with Dean now. Dean is almost always awake before him, claiming that he grew up with little to no sleep; he’s just used to it. Nevertheless, Cas does make him sleep for a good amount of time. So while Dean sleeps an average time now (which _is_ an improvement), Cas sleeps even over what he used to. And every single night.

He also promises Dean he’ll spare himself two hours, and he promises himself that he’ll spare Dean one of them, at least. They still have nighttime of course, but being able to hang out during the day is so nice. 

Charlie helps Cas more now too, and Gabriel and Balthazar pitch in when they want. Charlie took it upon herself to assign certain people certain roles too, so Cas only has a decent amount of chores.

He insisted on doing the rounds, though. No one could take him away from that. 

So, no, Cas is not overworking himself.

* * *

“Dean, I’m _fine_.” Cas says.

Dean’s insides flare, but his chest turns to ice when he hears Cas’ harsh tone.

“Cas, _Cas_ , hey.” Dean replies gently. “You’re doing all their work.”

“Dean, it was mine all along. It’s not my fault Charlie decided to give it away.”

Cas has been overworking himself.

He cuts his two hours that Dean made him promise down to one in favor of stealing other people’s jobs. 

He wakes up late, yes, but they’ve both been acting like he hasn’t been crashing into their bed at 1am.

It started off good, it did! He was waking up late and going to bed early, allowing others to do his work.

But now he’s back into that old routine.

Charlie says it was the same before Dean arrived; Hell, it was worse. And when Dean left? That was its peak. Charlie says this is just… his normal.

“Cas, please.” Dean says. “C’mon, let me help you, at least. You’ll get everything done in half time. So let’s make a list, at the beginning of the day. Ten things max in the beginning, and I’ll help you. And when you’re done, you can make rounds, or you can be done for the day, okay?” 

Dean knows Cas loves making the rounds. He wants to help people. It’s his biggest flaw, and one of the reasons he’s utterly perfect. 

It’s one of the reasons Dean loves him.

“Dean, we can do-“

“Cas, you know this isn’t good for you. Please? We can talk to Charlie, Gabe, whoever you need. Whatever you need to convince you this isn’t right. It’s not good for you.” Dean tugs Cas over to the bed, and Cas sits down with him. 

“Okay.” He mumbles. “I’m… I’m sorry for worrying you, Dean.”

“Thank you. It’s okay.” Dean smiles faintly, rubbing his hand over Cas’ knee.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve been doing this forever. Even before I took over, I was doing maybe half this workload at ten. So…” Cas shrugs.

“Cas, trust me, I get it. But you’ve gotta cut it down. I don’t know, if you can’t do it for yourself… think of it as doing me a favor. ‘Kay?”

Cas nods, and he scoots in closer to Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist.

Dean smiles and hugs him back, letting him rest his head on Dean’s chest from his slouched position. They sit there for a moment, before Dean gently pats Cas’ back, letting out a light chuckle. “Okay Bud, I’m just tryna make sure you’re not wearing yourself thin. No need to get all cuddly.”

“Shut up, Dean.” Cas mumbles happily, and Dean laughs, his grin growing and his grip on Cas tightening.

* * *

After that day, Dean begins to win on that particular subject. Two hours a day are set aside for Cas and Dean to do the hard jobs together, and then Cas does rounds three times a week. 

Cas has to admit, it feels… amazing.

He wakes up at 10, sometimes 11, and in Dean’s arms. Or with Dean in his arms. Or, hell, back to back. He wakes up with Dean, and being in that moment is all that matters. Dean promises now, that he’s never going to leave before Cas wakes up.

He stays for breakfast.

He’s usually in bed even after breakfast. (Let’s just say, Dean’s previous concerns have been addressed and appeased.)

He still takes hard stuff, and he occasionally had a long night or two, but he’s learning that… he’s important too. Just as important as the rest of them. 

It took work, and help, and Dean. It took a lot of Dean. But Cas is finally starting to realize something he should have a long time ago.

Cas matters.

And he knows that now. 

* * *

Kelly Kline died in childbirth.

The evening was hard for everyone. The unfortunate truth was, though, that she was normal, with a powered baby. 

That doesn’t _happen_.

Children don’t manifest in the womb. 

Cas was the most powerful child in The Sanctuary when he manifested at nine years old. He’s a historically powerful person, but this baby killed his mother when he was born.

Her eyes were burnt out.

Cas has stared into those same dead, empty eyes far too many times in his life.

Jack, the baby, he has the same powers as Cas does.

* * *

Cas decided to take the kid in. Dean wasn’t allowed to touch him for years. When Jack was two years old, though, Dean was finally allowed to pick up his son. 

At first, Dean didn’t like the kid. Cas was with him 100% of the time and he cried and he took up space and Dean even had to start leaving The Sanctuary again.

Dean realized, though, after a couple long, tough nights with Cas, that it was really just because he couldn’t form a bond with Jack. So one day, when Jack was calm, well rested, and happy, Dean was able to go into his room and say hi. He sat across from Jack, who was playing with blocks in Cas’ lap.

“Hey, kiddo.” Dean said gently, leaning in slightly.

Jack, who had been practicing with Cas (although Dean didn’t know this at the time), raised his hand and said, “H-Hi… Dean.” Before grinning wide and jumping in his spot a little, tilting his head back at Cas as though to request approval.

Jack is growing up steadily now. He’s a good, healthy kid. And sweet, too. He’d never do anything to hurt Dean, Cas, or anyone in The Sanctuary.

Cas and Dean connected two rooms together, so when Jack has bad dreams or needs something, he can knock and be let right on through. 

Dean’s happy.

* * *

Cas is happy.

* * *

This world, it threw them in the worst of situations. It gave them utter shit.

* * *

And Cas, he trudged his way through it, having decided this was simply the best he could get.

* * *

Dean clawed at the walls of his enclosure, but there had been no heart in it, for he believed there was nothing better that he deserved.

* * *

But the world gave them each other. It intertwined their paths. 

* * *

And, hell, if they didn’t both now know,

* * *

They both deserve better.

* * *

And they screamed that at each other through tears. “You deserve more, you deserve better, let me push you up, I’ll stay down here.”

* * *

Until they realized,

* * *

they’re both right.

* * *

And they both realized,

* * *

they can pull each other up, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, posting the end of this is... Big. This was my first long fic, so it's really been huge to me. 
> 
> First, I want to thank my beta, Mads. Yeah yeah, I'll keep this one quick, I promise. But Mads helped with every last aspect of this fic. It wouldn't be what is is without them. So, while it was my idea, and I wrote it, if you're thanking me, you should thank them too. And I have to do it myself, of course, so, thank you, Mads! For everything.
> 
> Now, for you guys. I cannot tell you just how grateful I am for every last one of you. When you first clicked on this fic, you stole a tiny piece of my heart. From the silent readers to the ones who would regularly converse with me (you know who you are), I love you all and I am grateful for you.
> 
> Now! I know I didn't address everything I possibly could have. I know some of you still have questions! I know (or at least hope) that you guys will be missing our lil dudes. So, I have an announcement! While this will be most likely the longest work, I am looking to add things to this series in the form of one shots or non compliant drabbles! There's even been talk or a prequel! Now, this fic has just been added to a series, so if you want to get notified when there's more, just subscribe! I am working on another project right now, so I can’t promise anything... tomorrow, but you will get one soon, I’m sure! I already miss this AU.
> 
> Speaking of sequels and questions, I have an announcement to make! I'm setting a thing up now, and it will essentially be written just like a press conference. It takes place in this world, based around this AU, but it won't happen in the "canon" of the fic. The questions of this press conference, though, will be your own! There's no limit to how many questions you can send in, but if I get over 30, I will have to pick some out. Now, you guys can ask essentially anything! It'll take place after the events of the fic, and you can ask questions to or about any character you want! Or, if you'd like, you can simply tell them something! It's up to you! You can send in your questions here or tumblr.
> 
> Okay I promise I will stop talking. It's your turn, if you'd like! Please, I'd love to hear from you, I'm sure you know where by now.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed, because I've more than adored our journey together. <3


End file.
